Walk Away
by Constance1
Summary: Harry and Draco's secret relationship is discovered and destroyed. Devastated, Harry falls into an abusive relationship with another Slytherin. SLASH. COMPLETE.
1. Ethan

  
  
_What do you do when you know something's bad for you  
and you still can't let go?_

Harry quietly crept into the empty quidditch bleachers to wait, the moonlight reflecting off of his glasses as he lay down on one of the benches with his arms behind his head. He closed his eyes and inhaled the fragrant night air deeply. The night was balmy and warm without a cloud in sight, leaving the moon and stars crystal clear in the black sky. It was the end of September and a feeling of summer still hung in the air around Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.  
  
Harry opened his eyes at the sound of the floorboards creaking beside him. An invisible pair of lips descended on his own and he smiled into the ghostly kiss.  
  
"You're late," Harry said, watching the air in front of him shimmer as Draco Malfoy emerged from beneath an invisibility cloak.  
  
"No, you're just perpetually early, Potter." Draco smirked, tossing the cloak onto the bench.  
  
Harry sat up and playfully shoved Draco in the chest, an exaggerated pout on his lips. Draco grabbed his wrist with an evil grin and hauled him to his feet, pinning his arm behind his back.  
  
"Ow!" Harry cried, struggling against the tight hold. He kicked out his right leg behind him and hit Draco directly in the shin.  
  
Draco let go of his arm with a yell and Harry took off for the exit, turning in the doorway to cheekily stick his tongue out at Draco before bounding down the stairs. He leapt over the last three steps and sprinted off across the dew-covered quidditch field. He stopped and turned after awhile to see how close behind Draco was, and was confused when he saw no one there. Suddenly an invisible body collided with him and they were both sent sprawling onto the grass.  
  
"Oomph!" Harry grunted as Draco fell onto his chest, knocking the wind out of him.  
  
Draco rolled off of him and pulled the hood of the cloak back from his face as he laughed loudly.  
  
"It's not funny!" Harry gasped angrily. "I think you broke a rib."  
  
"Let me see, you big baby," Draco said, with a roll of his eyes.  
  
He grasped the bottom of Harry's t-shirt and carefully lifted it up, revealing Harry's smooth, pale torso. He was surprisingly gentle as he thoroughly probed Harry's ribcage.  
  
"Nope, not broken," he concluded with a superior smirk.  
  
"Feels like it," Harry muttered, yanking his shirt back down.  
  
Draco flopped onto the ground beside him, the two staring up at the sky silently. Draco reached out for Harry's hand, but Harry snatched it away grumpily.  
  
"Stop sulking, Potter," Draco sighed in annoyance. "You're the one who started it."  
  
Harry ignored him and continued to stare up at the sky.  
  
"Fine, I'm leaving."  
  
Draco stood up and threw the cloak on the grass before turning to head back to the school. Harry immediately felt foolish and turned to call Draco back, but his eyes caught sight of someone walking out of the entrance doors of Hogwarts.  
  
Harry grabbed the invisibility cloak and ran after Draco, throwing the cloak over them as he shoved him to the ground.  
  
"What?!"  
  
"Shhh!" Harry hissed, watching the dark figure move closer.  
  
"It looks like Filch," Draco whispered, when he saw what Harry was looking at.  
  
Filch walked to the edge of the quidditch pitch and held up his lantern, squinting into the darkness with his beady eyes. Mrs Norris stood at his feet and stared straight at Harry and Draco lying on the grass.  
  
"I swear that cat can see through invisibility cloaks," Harry muttered.  
  
"I always hated that cat," Draco whispered, glaring at Mrs Norris.  
  
The two boys held their breath as Filch finally turned and went back into the school, Mrs Norris following along behind.  
  
Harry expelled his breath in relief.  
  
"Now who's breaking ribs?" Draco asked, rolling onto his back and looking up at Harry.  
  
Harry smiled in embarrassment and neatly folded the cloak on his lap. "I guess we'd better go."  
  
"Yeah," Draco reluctantly agreed with a sigh.  
  
Harry stood up and extended a hand to Draco.  
  
"We never have enough time together anymore," Draco said wistfully, as he took Harry's hand and pulled himself up.  
  
"I know," Harry sighed, wrapping his arms around Draco and laying his head on the Slytherin's slightly higher shoulder.  
  
Draco held Harry close as they stood together, simply enjoying the comfort of each other's embrace. Harry nuzzled into Draco's neck, pressing his lips to the soft skin, and Draco closed his eyes, tightening his hold on the precious Gryffindor in his arms. Harry raised his head and Draco leaned down to brush his lips across Harry's, savouring the taste of his sweet mouth. They kissed each other tenderly and without hurry, their troubles melting away, if only for the moment. Draco placed one last kiss on Harry's lips before pulling away.  
  
"Time to go," he said.  
  
Harry nodded and bent down to pick up his cloak.  
  
"Do you need this again?" Harry asked, holding out the bundle of silvery fabric.  
  
"No, you take it tonight."  
  
They clasped hands and slowly made their way to the school, reluctantly separating in the Entrance Hall and going back to their own dorms.

Harry hurriedly dressed the next morning, racing down to the common room before anyone else was even awake. He rushed out of the portrait hole and ran all the way to the Room of Requirement. Draco, who had been lounging in a comfortable armchair by the crackling fire, immediately got up and greeted Harry with a quick hug.  
  
"Look at what they gave us today!" he said, taking Harry's hand and pulling him towards a small dining table for two.  
  
The table was completely covered with food, including fresh scones with jersey cream and strawberry jam, finger sandwiches full of salmon, cucumbers, and egg salad. A three tiered, silver serving tower stood in the middle with cream puffs, fruit tarts, pastries, and chocolate squares neatly laid out. A silver teapot sat beside a jug of water, two tea cups, and a bowl of sugar cubes.  
  
Harry smiled and plopped down in one of the chairs, wondering what to eat first. Draco smiled at the child-like anticipation on Harry's face and sat down in the chair opposite him. He poured them both some tea while Harry dug into the still warm scones and jam.  
  
"People are going to wonder why I hardly eat anything at meal time anymore," Harry said, his mouth full.  
  
"Ugh, that's disgusting, Potter. Swallow first and then talk."  
  
Harry glared at him and kicked him under the table.  
  
"Ow! Hey, it's still sore there from when you kicked me last night," Draco grimaced, rubbing his shin under the table.  
  
Harry merely continued to chew and look at Draco pleasantly.  
  
"Well? Aren't you going to apologize?" Draco asked.  
  
Harry waited a few seconds and then swallowed. "You told me not to talk with my mouth full."  
  
"Are you going to apologize now?"  
  
"Nope."  
  
"You'll be sorry," Draco threatened.  
  
He suddenly grabbed one of the lemon cream puffs and threw it at Harry, who turned his head to one side and the cream puff exploded on his cheek. Globs of lemon filling were now stuck to his face and hair. Harry leapt up and grabbed a salmon sandwich, he jumped onto Draco, pushing him backwards into the armchair and smearing the salmon paste into the immaculate blond hair.  
  
"You are so dead, Potter!" Draco shouted.  
  
He shoved Harry to the floor and sat astride his chest to reach up to the table and grab the pot of strawberry jam.  
  
"No, not jam!" Harry cried, his smile fading in panic.  
  
Draco grinned and dipped his hand into the sticky substance. He smeared it into Harry's thick hair and down his face to his chin. He then pulled the collar of Harry's robe out and tipped the rest of the pot down his shirt.  
  
"Ahhh....." Harry screamed, struggling desperately.  
  
Draco started to howl with laughter and Harry was able to throw him off. Draco rolled onto his back, still laughing, as Harry sat up and reached for the chocolate squares. He intended to stuff them down Draco's throat, but he accidentally knocked over the silver teapot and scalding hot tea spilled out and splashed over his arm.  
  
Harry yelped in pain and clutched his arm to his chest.  
  
"Harry!" Draco cried in alarm, sitting up and kneeling beside the hunched over boy. "Let me see."  
  
Harry straightened up and carefully lifted his wet sleeve, the skin beneath was extremely red and starting to swell. Draco took out his wand and held it over the burnt skin.  
  
"Medeor."  
  
Harry instantly felt a cooling sensation tingle along his arm and hand. The skin turned blue for a second then disappeared, taking all traces of the burn with it.  
  
"Thanks," Harry said gratefully, rubbing the newly healed skin.  
  
"Anytime," Draco smiled, pocketing his wand again.  
  
Harry looked over at Draco and laughed at the clumps of pink salmon in his hair.  
  
"You should see yourself," Draco smirked, looking at the red goo covering most of the skin on Harry's face. He leaned forward and kissed the corner of Harry's mouth, flicking his tongue out to gently lick off some of the jam. "You're a mess," he murmured, continuing to kiss his way around Harry's lips and cheek.  
  
Harry chuckled and lay back on the floor, taking Draco with him. He wrapped his arms around Draco's back and tilted his head as Draco kissed his way down Harry's throat, stopping at the collar of his robes. Draco sat up and quickly removed Harry's robe and jumper, gazing down at the trail of jam running down his pale chest. Harry wrapped his hands in Draco's silvery hair as the Slytherin bent over his task, moaning quietly as Draco's tongue swept over his sensitive skin, leaving a trail of goose bumps in its wake.  
  
He pulled Draco back up and kissed him deeply, the taste of strawberries strong on his tongue. Draco rolled them over so that Harry was on top and wrapped his legs around the Gryffindor's waist. They both moaned into the kiss. Draco ran his hands over Harry's naked back as Harry attacked his throat with tiny bites and kisses.  
  
Suddenly, the little silver clock on the dining table began to chime incessantly.  
  
"Shit," Draco swore. "We're going to be late for breakfast."  
  
They quickly scrambled to their feet and Draco grabbed his robe from the chair as Harry pulled his jumper back on over his head. Draco transfigured a spoon into a comb and tried to get the worst of the salmon out of his hair. Harry dipped one of the cloth napkins into the water jug and wiped his sticky face and hair.  
  
"I'll go first," Draco said.  
  
"Okay."  
  
Draco strode over to the door and peeked out. "All clear," he announced, looking back at Harry.  
  
"Wait!" Harry shouted. He ran over and hugged Draco tightly.  
  
"You're such a goof." Draco smiled affectionately as he ruffled Harry's hair.  
  
Harry pulled back, embarrassed.

Draco lifted his chin and kissed him lovingly on the lips. "Don't ever change," he said. "Meet you at lunch?"  
  
"Right." Harry nodded.  
  
"See ya later, Potter."  
  
"Bye, Malfoy."  
  
Draco opened the door and quietly snuck out into the empty hallway. Harry counted to one hundred before following. They arrived separately in the Great Hall and sat with their respective houses, without so much as a glance in the other's direction.

"Where've you been?" Ron asked as Harry sat on the bench beside him.  
  
"Just taking a walk," Harry answered casually.  
  
"Harry, you've taken a walk almost every morning since school started," Hermione said suspiciously, buttering a piece of toast.  
  
"It helps to clear my mind after concentrating on my Occlumency all night," Harry lied.  
  
"How's that going by the way?" Ron asked, slapping a large stack of pancakes onto his plate.  
  
"Great, I haven't had a nightmare since...er...."  
  
"Since when?" Ron asked, pouring syrup onto his pancakes.  
  
"Since July," Harry said quickly. He had almost said since he and Draco had gotten together.  
  
"Is that when you and Professor Dumbledore started your lessons together?" Hermione asked absently, biting into her toast and flipping through the Daily Prophet.  
  
"Yeah, pretty much," Harry answered, glancing up at the headmaster. "Hey, who's that?"  
  
Ron and Hermione followed Harry's gaze to the head table where a strange boy was talking to Dumbledore.  
  
"Don't know," Ron said with a shrug.  
  
The boy looked to be around their age, with light brown hair and a tall, slim build. Professor McGonagall suddenly walked through the side door carrying a stool and a tattered old hat.  
  
"What's going on?" Dean Thomas asked. "Why is McGonagall bringing out the Sorting Hat?"  
  
Professor Dumbledore stood up and addressed the school. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but as you can see we have a new student. His name is Ethan Fiori and he is transferring from Beauxbatons. His family has decided that they would prefer Ethan to finish his last year of school here at Hogwarts. He's originally from a wizarding village nearby so he does speak both English and French fluently."  
  
Harry watched Ethan during Dumbledore's speech and felt sorry for him, he was clearly embarrassed about being the centre of attention.  
  
"I can sympathise," Harry thought to himself.  
  
Just then, Ethan caught Harry's eye and smiled tentatively. Harry smiled back warmly. Draco frowned as he watched the exchange, feeling hatred boiling up towards the new student.  
  
"If you would just take a seat, Ethan." Dumbledore smiled reassuringly. "Professor McGonagall will now place the Sorting Hat on your head."  
  
Ethan nervously sat down on the stool.  
  
"He'd better not be sorted into Gryffindor," Draco growled under his breath.  
  
Professor McGonagall walked over and as soon as the hat touched the top of Ethan's head it shouted -  
  
"Slytherin!"  
  
The Slytherin table erupted into cheers, except for Draco, and Ethan made his way over to the end of the bench near the sixth and seventh year students.  
  
"Excellent." Dumbledore beamed. "Enjoy the rest of the day and please help Ethan feel at home."  
  
"No problem there," Lavender said, gazing appreciatively at the handsome new student.  
  
"Maybe he can teach us some French," Parvati said, and the two girls burst into giggles.  
  
Ron rolled his eyes at Harry, but Harry couldn't help noticing that Ethan was rather attractive. His eyes wandered down the table to Draco, and he noticed that the blond was eating breakfast with a very sour expression on his face. Harry frowned, wondering what was wrong.  
  
Ethan had only sat a few seats down from Draco and he could hear every word the new boy was saying to his housemates.  
  
"So what's it like here?" Ethan asked.  
  
"It's okay, you'll like Professor Snape. He's the only decent teacher here, most of them favour Gryffindors," a pale, seventh year girl answered.  
  
"Stupid Gryffindors, think they own the school," Blaise Zabini grumbled. "Do you play quidditch, Ethan?"  
  
"I was seeker of my team back at Beauxbatons."  
  
"Oh, well we already have a good seeker. Right, Draco?"  
  
Draco looked up and Ethan smiled at him.  
  
"That's right, guess you'll just have to watch from the sidelines," Draco smiled icily.  
  
Crabbe and Goyle chuckled obediently on either side of him.  
  
"I don't mind," Ethan said, nonplussed. "I hear the Slytherin-Gryffindor rivalry is pretty intense."  
  
"It is, but this year we're going to kick their ass," Pansy Parkinson smirked. "Gryffindor had to make some replacements last year, and let's just say that the new players don't know one end of a broomstick from the other. Plus, they don't have Potter anymore."  
  
Draco glanced over at Harry, he had forgotten about Harry's quidditch ban. He hoped that Dumbledore would let him play again this year.  
  
"Potter? Harry Potter?" Ethan asked, looking at Pansy.  
  
"Yeah, he was sentenced to a life-long quidditch ban last year. Good thing too, Draco hasn't been able to beat him once yet."  
  
Draco glared at her.  
  
"Which one is he?" Ethan asked.  
  
They all turned to look at Harry as Pansy pointed him out.

"The cute brunette?" Ethan asked, smiling at Harry.  
  
Draco felt his blood boil and he clenched his jaw in anger. The rest of the Slytherins turned to gape at Ethan in shock.  
  
"You can't be serious!" Pansy exclaimed. "Potter, cute?"  
  
"Definitely." Ethan nodded. "Look at him - great hair, gorgeous eyes, and a brilliant smile."  
  
"I suppose..." Milicent Bulstrode said slowly, tilting her head and squinting at Harry.  
  
"And he plays quidditch, so he probably has a fantastic body," Ethan added with a grin.  
  
"I'm going to pretend that this conversation is not happening," Blaise said, rubbing his temples.  
  
"Listen, Ethan," Pansy said seriously. "You can date whoever you want, boys, girls, whatever, but not Potter. You're a Slytherin now and I think the universe would collapse in on itself if a Slytherin ever dated the boy- wonder."  
  
"Is he single?" Ethan asked, ignoring her.  
  
"I give up," Pansy said throwing her hands in the air.  
  
Draco ground his teeth together, jealously coursing through his entire body.


	2. Suspicions and Slytherins

  
  
The Slytherin's ate the rest of breakfast in silence then slowly departed one by one for their first class of the day. Some of the other seventh year students offered to show Ethan around and guide him to class.

Draco glared at Ethan's back as he walked towards the doors, most of the female population turning to watch his progress. Draco suddenly realized that Harry and Weasley were leaving too and would reach the door at the same time as Ethan. He balled his hands into fists, but couldn't do anything about it.  
  
Ethan stopped at the door and grinned at Harry. "Hi."  
  
"Hi." Harry smiled. "I'm Harry."  
  
"I know," Ethan winked.  
  
"Come on, Ethan," Vincent Balkwill said, looking at Harry disapprovingly.  
  
"See ya around, Harry." Ethan smiled as he left with the group of Slytherin's.  
  
"Bye."  
  
"Uh oh," Ron said, watching Ethan walk away.  
  
"What?"  
  
"I think he likes you."  
  
"Give me a break," Harry snorted. "He probably just recognized me, that's all."  
  
"I don't think so," Ron said thoughtfully as they headed for class.  
  
"He was just being friendly," Harry argued.  
  
"He didn't say hello to _me_," Ron pointed out.  
  
"Well..."  
  
"Yes?" Ron smirked.  
  
"Oh, just drop it will you?" Harry exclaimed as they made their way to the astronomy tower.  
  
"Not interested?" Ron pressed with a smile.  
  
"No!"  
  
"Why not? Just because he's a guy-"  
  
"It's not because he's a guy!" Harry shouted heatedly.  
  
Ron looked at him in surprise. "I was just kidding....I....I didn't know you were...."  
  
"Gay?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Does that bother you?"  
  
"No," Ron said hastily. "I'm just surprised that you didn't tell me before."  
  
"Well, to be honest I didn't realize it until this past summer."  
  
Ron glanced at him curiously as they stopped under the trap door. "What made you realize it?" he asked.  
  
Luckily the ladder appeared then, interrupting their conversation. Ron and Harry sat near the back of the class and watched as Professor Trelawney made her usual grand entrance.  
  
"Good morning." she smiled, her voice a little harder than usual.  
  
Harry felt himself drifting off as Professor Trelawney once again started droning on and on about how she saw the signs of You-Know-Who returning long ago. She had gotten even stranger since her firing last year and Harry wondered why Dumbledore had let her teach again. He envied the students that were lucky enough to get Firenze this year, as the two teachers were sharing the Divination classes. Ron gave him a nudge in the ribs as his head began to droop.  
  
"Harry, are you bleeding?" Ron whispered worriedly.  
  
"What?" Harry answered, sitting up.  
  
"There's blood behind your ear."  
  
Harry reached his hand up and felt behind his ear carefully, his fingers touched something sticky. He quickly looked at his fingers in alarm and laughed out loud when he saw that it was strawberry jam.  
  
Professor Trelawney gave him a reproving glare.  
  
"Mr Potter, perhaps you could tell us of your experiences last year concerning You-Know-Who."  
  
"No, I could not," Harry replied coolly, not wishing to even think about it let alone tell the entire class what had happened.  
  
"Come now, Mr Potter," she pressed, her big eyes shining. "We have a right to know what You-Know-Who is up to."  
  
"Then ask Dumbledore."  
  
Professor Trelawney placed her hands on the table in front of Harry and leaned forward. "Why won't you tell us? I could help you with interpreting the signs that you have witnessed."  
  
"I doubt it," Harry snorted, knowing full well that she had only made two real predictions in her entire career.  
  
"Try me, Mr Potter."  
  
"No."  
  
"What are you afraid of?"  
  
"I'm not afraid," Harry retorted angrily.  
  
"What's keeping you from telling us? Is it too painful? Is it too hard to talk about?"  
  
Harry looked away from her looming face and tried to keep the image of Sirius from appearing in his mind.  
  
"That's it, isn't it?" she said excitedly.  
  
"Leave him alone," Ron ordered angrily.  
  
"What happened, Potter?" she probed, ignoring Ron.  
  
Harry shook his head. Sirius was laughing and taunting the Death Eaters, he was falling....falling through the black veil....his eyes wide in surprise...  
  
"I see it in your eyes, what horrors are you reliving?" she asked, her cheeks flushed with excitement.  
  
Harry closed his eyes as his scar began to prickle.  
  
"Stop it!" Ron shouted, seeing the expression of pain on his best friend's face.  
  
Professor Trelawney straightened up and glared in frustration at Harry, before walking back to the front of the classroom. "Very well, open your books to page thirty-nine," she said huffily.  
  
"Harry?" Ron whispered.  
  
Harry opened his eyes as his scar began to burn. "I have to go," he whispered faintly, knowing that the pain was about to get worse.  
  
"Do you want me to come?"  
  
"No, it's okay," Harry said, gathering his books together. He stood up and made his way to the trap door.  
  
"Where are you going?" Professor Trelawney demanded.  
  
"I don't feel well," Harry said, kicking the door open.  
  
"You can wait until the end of class to see the nurse."  
  
"No, I can't." Harry dropped his bag through and quickly climbed down without another glance at Professor Trelawney. He grabbed his bag and stumbled to the next corridor before falling to his knees, his hands pressed to his face. Tears leaked out between his fingers as he struggled to clear his mind.  
  
A gentle hand suddenly pressed onto his shoulder. Startled, Harry looked up.  
  
"Are you okay, Harry?" Ethan asked in concern.  
  
"Yeah," Harry gasped.  
  
"Liar." Ethan smiled. "Do you want to go to the nurse?"  
  
"No - Dumbledore."  
  
Ethan hoisted Harry to his feet and slipped an arm around his shoulders. Following Harry's directions, he carefully helped him all the way to the gargoyle entrance of Dumbledore's office.  
  
"Ice mice," Harry whispered.  
  
The gargoyle sprang aside and Ethan had to half carry Harry up the stairs as the pain increased in his scar, making him feel nauseous.  
  
"Ethan..." Dumbledore stood up in surprise. "Put him in the chair."  
  
Ethan gently laid Harry down in the armchair opposite Dumbledore's desk.  
  
"Thank you, Ethan," Dumbledore said gratefully. "You may go back to class."  
  
Ethan nodded and gave Harry one last look before leaving.

** . . . **

Draco entered the Great Hall for lunch and glanced over at the Gryffindor table. Harry hadn't shown up for their meeting and Draco was worried. He saw that Harry's seat was vacant and Hermione and Ron were talking intently.  
  
Draco sat down at the Slytherin table grumpily, he had been eager to see Harry again after seeing Ethan flirting with him this morning.  
  
"You should've just left him there."  
  
"But he was in a lot of pain."  
  
Draco listened as Ethan and Vincent's voices drifted down the table.  
  
"What was wrong with him?" Vincent asked.  
  
"I don't know, I think it had something to do with that scar."  
  
Draco dropped his fork with a clatter.  
  
"That guy is messed up," Vincent said, shaking his head.  
  
"What are you talking about?" Pansy asked as she sat down next to Draco.  
  
"Ethan saved Potter this morning," Vincent smirked.  
  
"Really? From what?"  
  
"I just helped him," Ethan said, modestly. "I found him lying on the floor in the corridor, obviously in pain, and I helped him to Professor Dumbledore's office."  
  
"You should've left him there," Pansy sneered.  
  
"That's what I said," Vincent chuckled.  
  
"He deserves - where are you going, Draco?" Pansy asked as Draco stood up suddenly.  
  
"Just going for a walk."  
  
He strode quickly towards the doors, wanting to find Harry and make sure he was okay. Harry always said that Draco helped the pain disappear when he had one of these attacks.  
  
The rest of the Slytherin's continued to eat and talk unconcernedly, except for Ethan, who was watching Draco with a calculating gaze.

  
** . . .**

Draco quickly made his way up the headmaster's spiralling staircase. He knocked on the door and it swung open to allow him admittance into Dumbledore's office.

"Draco." Harry smiled over the rim of his teacup.

"Ah, Mr Malfoy." Dumbledore greeted, his eyes twinkling. "I wondered how long we would have to wait before you made an appearance. This school is synonymous for its gossiping."

Draco walked over to Harry, who was sitting comfortably in one of the headmaster's cozy chintz chairs, and knelt down in front of him.

"Are you okay?" he asked, grey eyes searching his face.

"I have some other business to attend to," Dumbledore said, standing. "I trust you'll be alright now, Harry?"

"Yeah, thanks." Harry nodded gratefully, glancing warmly at Draco.

Dumbledore smiled. "I'm glad you two managed to put aside your differences and become friends during your stay here this past summer. I'm very proud of you both."

Draco smirked and raised a brow at Harry as the Gryffindor's face turned slightly pink.

"Goodbye, gentlemen. Don't be late for class."

Dumbledore hid a smile as he left the two alone in his office.

"Do you think he knows?" Harry asked, once the door had fallen shut behind the headmaster.

"Nah, or he wouldn't have left us alone." Draco stood up and squished himself into the chair next to Harry.

Harry smiled and shifted over so that he was sitting in Draco's lap. Draco gently took Harry's empty teacup and placed it on Dumbledore's desk, then wrapped his arms around the tired brunette.

Harry sighed and snuggled into the warm embrace.

"So what happened?" Draco asked, stroking his hair.

"Trelawney," Harry muttered darkly.

"What did that old bat do now?"

"She asked me to tell the class about everything that happened last year at the Department of Mysteries."

"What?" Draco exclaimed angrily.

"I refused, but I started thinking about Sirius and of course my scar started to hurt, so I ran out of there and came here."

Draco paused. "And how did you get here?"

"That new guy, Ethan Fiori, helped me."

"That was…nice of him."

Harry pulled his head back and looked up at Draco's face. "You're jealous." He smiled.

"I am not."

"Yes, you are."

Draco scowled. "Fine, maybe I am…a bit. But you would be too if you saw the way he looks at you."

"Kind of like how Pansy looks at you?"

"What?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Parkinson. She always looks at you like she just can't wait to sink her claws into you."

Draco broke into a smile. "I didn't know you were the jealous type. Well, don't worry, she's not my….uh, 'type'."

Harry laughed.

"What about you? Ethan's not a girl, nor is he exactly ugly. Should I be worried?"

"Of course not," Harry assured him, running his fingers through Draco's hair. "I prefer blondes."

Draco smirked and leaned in to kiss Harry's soft lips. Harry smiled into the kiss and gladly opened his mouth to Draco's possessive fierceness, moaning quietly at the sudden intensity.

"Ugh, that is disgusting!"

The two jumped apart so fast that Harry ended up falling hard onto the floor.

"A Slytherin and a Gryffindor – that's utterly disgraceful."

Draco wildly looked around, searching for the source of the voice.

Harry sighed and rubbed his smarting tailbone, recognizing that haughty sneer. "What do you want, Phineas?" he asked in irritation.

Draco followed Harry's gaze upwards to the cluttered office wall and saw one of the wizard portraits glaring disapprovingly at them. The plaque under him read: Phineas Nigellus.

"Would you please take that disturbing teenage groping outside?" Phineas asked, voice dripping with disdain.

"Mind your own business!" Harry snapped, getting to his feet and straightening his robes.

"Stop conducting your sordid little affair in front of us then."

"Us?" Draco repeated, his eyes taking in all the portraits lining the walls.

"Oh, bugger off." Harry rolled his eyes.

"Humph." Phineas turned aside and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Now, where were we?" Harry asked silkily, slinking towards Draco.

"W-what are you doing?" Draco stuttered, as Harry slung his arms about Draco's neck.

"What's wrong?"

"We'd better not," Draco said, eyeing the portraits.

"Who cares about them? They won't tell anyone," Harry said, dismissively.

Draco backed away. "I don't think we should right now."

Harry frowned and dropped his arms. "Fine."

"Harry-"

"No, forget it." Harry pushed past him and ran for the door.

"Harry, wait!"

Draco ran after him and quickly jogged down the stairs. He stopped short in the doorway and watched as Harry disappeared into the crowd of students on their way to class.

"Damn it." Draco cursed. He had to talk to Harry and apologize for freaking out. He started walking towards his dorm for his potions text books, working out a plan to talk to Harry during class.


	3. Ignis Eruptum

         Harry entered the potions classroom and angrily slammed his books down onto the table.  
  
"How are you feeling?" Ron asked, noticing his agitated state.  
  
"Great, never better," Harry answered, sarcastically.  
  
Ron and Hermione glanced at each other and shrugged, they had become use to Harry's strange mood swings this year.  
  
"How does it feel to be rescued by a Slytherin, Potter?" Blaise Zabini whispered from across the aisle.  
  
"Piss off, Zabini," Harry muttered, still fuming over Draco.  
  
"Some hero you turned out to be," he taunted.  
  
"Fuck you."  
  
Ron and Hermione's eyes widened in shock, Harry rarely swore unless he was really upset.  
  
"Better watch your language, Potter. I don't think mummy and daddy would be too happy to know that their son had such a filthy mouth."  
  
Harry snapped and launched out of his seat, throwing himself into a surprised Blaise and knocking him to the floor. Harry reached back and punched him in the nose. Blood spattered onto Harry's fist as he made contact, breaking the bone with a sickening crunch. Blaise cried out in pain and tried to reach for the wand in his pocket.  
  
At that moment, Professor Snape entered the classroom accompanied by Draco. Their conversation died as they looked over at the commotion in surprise. Draco dropped his books and ran over, pushing through the crowd of students who had gathered around to watch and cheer. He stopped dead, completely shocked at the sight of Harry sitting atop Blaise and beating the shit out of him. Harry's emerald eyes were practically throwing off sparks and his face was flushed with anger. Draco couldn't help but feel a little aroused at the sight, but he knew that he should help Blaise before Harry killed him.  
  
Draco grabbed Harry's arm and hauled him to his feet.  
  
"What are you doing?" Harry demanded, arms still swinging wildly.  
  
"Get off of him, Potter," Draco commanded, pushing Harry away.  
  
"Mind your own business, Malfoy!" Harry spat, glaring at Draco.  
  
"It _is my business when you attack a member of my house," he replied calmly.  
  
"Fuck you!" Harry growled, and then lunged at Blaise again.  
  
Draco grabbed Harry's sleeve and pulled him back again. Blaise sat up and scrambled backwards, one hand on his bloody nose.  
  
"Let go of me!" Harry shouted in frustration, struggling to break free.  
  
"Stop it, Harry!"  
  
Harry froze and turned terrified eyes towards Draco. The blood drained from Draco's face as he realized what he had said. The circle of students gasped audibly and glanced between the two as they stood frozen in place, unable to speak.  
  
"That's enough!" Snape commanded, startling everyone. "Everyone go back to your seats at once. Zabini, go see the nurse."  
  
Everyone rushed to do what Snape had asked, Draco moving in slow motion as he picked up his books and sat down. Snape turned towards Harry and smiled maliciously.  
  
"As for you, Mr Potter," he said slowly, clearly enjoying himself. "You will have detention every night for the next two weeks and that will be fifty points from Gryffindor for disrupting my class. Now sit down!"  
  
Harry sat in his chair and buried his face in his hands. The rest of the class silently got out their books and quills. Ron looked at Harry worriedly, he had never seen his best friend lose control like that and attack some one for just teasing him.  
  
Snape assigned them a complicated potion to have completed by the end of class. The students trudged up to the front of the room in pairs and picked up a tray with the required ingredients laid out on them and took them back to their tables.  
  
Draco deftly stole the rutilus eruca from Ron's tray as he passed by. Ron set the tray down beside Harry and the two reluctantly got to work. Ron decided that he would talk to Harry about what was wrong later.  
  
Draco finished his potion easily, he could do it in his sleep thanks to the private lessons he had over the summer with Professor Snape. He sat back in his chair and listened intently for Harry or Weasley's voice. It didn't take long.  
  
"I don't understand," Ron whined. "We _used_ all the ingredients."  
  
Harry sniffed at the black sludge simmering in their cauldron and wrinkled his nose.  
  
"It doesn't look right," he said slowly, glancing at Hermione's thick red potion beside them.  
  
"It looks like you're missing the rutilus," Hermione said, looking over.  
  
"I'll get it," Harry sighed. "I'm already in trouble anyway."  
  
Harry stood up and walked to the storage cupboard.  
  
"What are you doing, Potter?" Snape snapped, looking up from his desk.  
  
Harry paused with one hand on the doorknob. "I need some rutilus eruca."  
  
"What happened to the supply on your tray?"  
  
"We never had any."  
  
"I very much doubt that. Well, go and get it and that will be five more points for wasting ingredients."  
  
Fuming, Harry wrenched open the door and walked inside the musty storage cupboard.  
  
Draco waited until the door had closed behind Harry then got up to take his completed potion to Professor Snape. On the way back to his seat, Draco threw some ignis eruptum into Neville's cauldron while the boy was busy talking to Seamus. Neville turned around and his eyes widened in horror as his potion began to glow a brilliant shade of orange. He stood up and backed away slowly as it began to bubble and smoke.  
  
"Um, Professor?" he squeaked.  
  
Just as Snape looked up, the cauldron exploded - orange goo flew everywhere and burst into flame upon impact. Pandemonium broke out in the classroom as the students screamed and ran around in panic. Snape got up and rushed over to try and stop the fires that were springing up all over.  
  
Draco took the opportunity to slip unnoticed into the storage cupboard. He almost walked right into Harry who was just reaching for the doorknob from the inside. Draco pushed him backwards and quickly shut the door behind his back.  
  
"What's going on out there?" Harry asked in concern, listening to the panicked shouts of his classmates.  
  
"Nothing, I just created a little diversion," Draco smirked.  
  
"What do you want?" Harry frowned crossing his arms over his chest, the rutilus clutched in one hand.  
  
Draco took a deep breath. "I wanted to apologize."  
  
"You? Apologize?" Harry snorted.  
  
"Yes, for being such an ass-hole in Dumbledore's office."  
  
"You don't have to apologize," Harry sighed, leaning against the shelves that lined the walls. "Maybe you're right, Draco."  
  
"About what?"  
  
"Maybe this relationship isn't such a good idea."  
  
"I never said that," Draco frowned.  
  
Harry stayed silent and looked down at his shoes.  
  
"I would never say that, Harry. What we have means a lot to me."  
  
"Then let's tell people and stop keeping it a secret."  
  
"We've been over this, we can't do that."  
  
"Why? Would it embarrass you for people to know that you were sleeping with Harry Potter?"  
  
"No, I-"  
  
"Draco, this relationship has no future! We can't keep it a secret forever and I don't want to. Do you think my friends would be any more accepting of this than your friends? Stop caring so much about what other people think!"  
  
"It's not that simple!" Draco countered defensively.  
  
"Yes it is! Only __you make it more complicated."  
  
Draco sighed and ran is hands through his hair in frustration. "Look, all I know is that I don't want this to end," he said.  
  
"I don't either," Harry admitted with a sigh.  
  
Draco stepped over to Harry, who hesitated a split second before walking into Draco's open arms. He tilted Harry's chin up and looked into his eyes earnestly.  
  
"Harry, I promise we'll always be together no matter what."  
  
Harry nodded and buried his face in Draco's shoulder. Draco kissed the top of his head and squeezed him once before pulling away.  
  
"Sounds like Snape has cleaned up my little diversion," Draco smiled. "You'd better go back and finish your potion."  
  
"Okay." Harry turned and walked to the door.  
  
"See you tonight?" Draco asked worriedly.  
  
"Alright," Harry answered, his back to Draco. "After my detention I'll meet you in the garden."  
  
Harry opened the door without waiting for a reply and walked out.  
  
Draco sighed, he couldn't wait for their meeting tonight, he needed to talk to Harry and make sure he was okay. The Gryffindor was obviously still hurt. He thanked the gods that it was Saturday tomorrow and they would have all day to be alone together._

                        *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *

            Harry threw the dirty rag back into the bucket of soapy water and wiped his sweaty brow with the back of his hand. The potions classroom floor was now as clean as it could possibly be. He had been torn between amusement and annoyance every time he came across another burn mark from Draco's 'diversion.'  
  
"Are you finished yet, Potter?" Professor Snape asked, peeking through the classroom door.  
  
"Yes," Harry sighed. His knees were bruised, his back ached, and he was utterly exhausted - it had been a long day and it was now nearly midnight.  
  
"You may leave then," Snape said coldly.  
  
Harry put the bucket away and trudged past Snape, rubbing his sore neck as he went.  
  
"Mind you go straight to your dormitory."  
  
Harry turned around in surprise. Did Snape know that he was heading out to meet Draco?  
  
"What do you mean?" he asked casually.  
  
Snape fixed him with a level stare. "You have a nasty habit of running around the grounds after hours and getting other students into trouble."  
  
"Yes, sir," Harry swallowed.  
  
Snape turned and strode off down the hallway, his black cloak billowing out behind him. Harry watched him thoughtfully for a moment then continued on his way to the Entrance Hall. He groaned as he pushed against the heavy wooden doors, his aching arm muscles screaming in protest, then ran down the stairs and into the garden.  
  
"Draco?" he called out quietly.  
  
The garden appeared to be empty.  
  
"Draco?" he tried again, looking around the shadow filled pathways and dark flowerbeds.  
  
Harry sighed in disappointment, Draco must have gotten tired of waiting for him and gone back inside.  
  
A loud snap suddenly sounded from somewhere behind him amidst the bushes. Harry whipped around and saw nothing - the path was empty.  
  
"Draco?" Harry called nervously, cursing himself for letting the Slytherin scare him like this. "This isn't funny, Draco. I'm going back inside!"  
  
Harry began to walk very quickly up the path, glancing form side to side.  
  
"Got ya!" Draco yelled and jumped out, grabbing Harry from behind.  
  
"Draco!" Harry exclaimed, his heart racing. "You scared me."  
  
"I know," Draco smirked happily.  
  
"Ow, could you let go please?"  
  
"What's wrong?" Draco asked, releasing him.  
  
"My neck and shoulders are killing me, no thanks to Snape," Harry grumbled.  
  
"Aw, come here." Draco led Harry over to a nearby stone bench and sat him down on the ground in front of him. He went to work gently kneading Harry's tight neck and shoulder muscles with his hands. Harry closed his eyes and moaned in appreciation. Draco smiled and felt a rush of warmth towards the wonderful creature beneath his hands.  
  
"Don't you want to know why I attacked Blaise?" Harry asked, opening his eyes.  
  
"Zabini already filled me in," Draco replied.  
  
"And?"  
  
"And what?"  
  
"Don't you think I over-reacted?"  
  
"No, he was asking for it." Draco smiled. "Besides, you've never looked sexier than when you were beating him to a bloody pulp."  
  
"Really?" Harry laughed.  
  
"Yes, I hope in the future you pick more fights with students around me. I just wanted to ravish you right then and there in front of everyone."  
  
"I wish you had," Harry smiled delightedly.  
  
Draco leaned forward and wrapped his arms around Harry's chest, hugging him tightly. "There'll be plenty of time for that tomorrow," he purred, kissing the side of Harry's neck enticingly.  
  
"Hmmm...I love Saturdays," Harry sighed in pleasure.  
  
Draco kissed his way up Harry's throat and gently nipped his earlobe. Harry moaned and turned around to kneel up on his knees and kiss Draco's soft lips. Draco pulled Harry to his feet without breaking the kiss and the two wrapped their arms around each other, running their hands over backs and shoulders, tangling fingers in hair. The passion built to such a pitch that Harry thought he was going to be swallowed up whole, and it felt wonderful. He couldn't breathe properly but he didn't care, he didn't want it to end. His whole body was tingling with pleasure and excitement.  
  
"Wow," Harry panted after awhile, finally breaking for air.  
  
"Yeah..." Draco agreed, speechless.  
  
Harry looked into Draco's soft grey eyes and for the first time in his life he wanted to say...**it. The three most important words in the English language, he could feel it on the tip of his tongue.  
  
Draco gazed at him almost expectantly.  
  
Harry took a deep breath and said -  
  
  "It's getting late."  
  
Draco looked surprised for a second then nodded mutely. Harry broke eye-contact and stared at the ground.  
  
"We'd better get back," he said, shuffling his feet.  
  
"Alright. We have to be careful though, we don't have your cloak," Draco whispered.  
  
"Oh, I forgot, and it's probably one o'clock by now too."  
  
Draco smiled and clasped Harry's hand as they walked out of the garden together. They slowly climbed the stairs and paused just before the entrance doors.  
  
"Goodnight, Harry." Draco smiled affectionately, cupping Harry's cheek and stroking his thumb across the soft skin.  
  
"Goodnight, Draco."  
  
Draco leaned down and touched his lips to Harry's very softly.  
  
"Can't wait until tomorrow," Draco said. He turned and carefully pushed open the door with a creak.  
  
"Draco?" Harry called. He needed to say it.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"I...er...can't wait until tomorrow either," he finished lamely.  
  
Draco smiled and entered the hall, letting the door swing shut behind him.  
  
Harry rolled his eyes and smacked his forehead with the palm of his hand. "Way to go, Harry," he thought sarcastically. He shook his head and entered the now empty hall, sneaking off to his dormitory.  
  
A dark figure emerged from behind the statue at the bottom of the stairway and watched Harry jog up the stairs. A plan began to take shape in Ethan's mind as he turned and exited through the door leading to the Slytherin dorms, a chilling look in his dark, narrowed eyes.**


	4. The Shrieking Shack

       "Harry! Harry!"  
  
Harry opened his eyes the next morning and glared irritably at Ron who was shaking him.  
  
"What?" he asked groggily, his eyes already drooping shut again.  
  
"You're late for Potions!" Ron shouted.  
  
"What?" Harry exclaimed, sitting bolt upright.  
  
Ron burst out laughing. "It's Saturday you twit! But you are late for breakfast."  
  
Harry groaned and threw his pillow at Ron.  
  
"Long detention last night?" Ron asked sweetly, ducking his head.  
  
"Yeah." Harry threw back the covers and couldn't help smiling to himself as he got dressed. Today was Saturday and the prospect of an entire day alone with Draco looming ahead made him whistle as he ran a brush through his unruly dark hair and adjusted his glasses.  
  
"You're in a good mood," Ron noted as he waited for him.  
  
"It's Saturday," Harry shrugged.  
  
"Hmm..."  
  
"What's that supposed to mean?" Harry asked, as he exited the dorm room.  
  
"Well, it's just that you disappear every Saturday for the whole day and won't tell anyone, including me, where you go or what you're doing. It just seems a little suspicious."  
  
"Do I have to tell you everything?"  
  
"No," Ron said in surprise. "But I thought we were friends?"  
  
"We are," Harry said as he pushed the portrait open. "It's just...private."  
  
Ron frowned and followed him into the corridor. 

         Harry sighed as he glanced sideways at Ron's hurt expression along the way to the Great Hall. "Do you really want to know?"  
  
"Yes," Ron answered emphatically.  
  
"Fine, but you can't tell anyone."  
  
"I won't," he promised.  
  
"Every Saturday I..." Harry stopped, unsure of how to phrase it best. Even in his head it sounded stupid - 'every Saturday I meet Malfoy in the Shrieking Shack and we...we...'  


        "You what?" Ron urged.  
  
"I go to the Shrieking Shack and...practice my defence against the dark arts training."  
  
"Why didn't you tell me? I could come too-"  
  
"No!" Harry exclaimed quickly. "I mean, Dumbledore is tutoring me privately."  
  
"You're getting private lessons from Dumbledore? Wow."  
  
"Yeah, it's pretty cool. Don't tell anyone though, even Hermione," Harry added as an afterthought, he knew she might be able figure out that he was lying.  
  
"Why?"  
  
"I just don't want anyone to bother me about it, or be worried."  
  
"Worried?" Ron asked.  
  
"The only reason I'm getting these extra lessons is because Voldemort is getting stronger and affecting me more and more."  
  
Harry was amazed at how easy it was for him to lie to his best friend, maybe he'd been spending too much time with a certain blond-haired master of deceit lately.  
  
"I promise," Ron assured him as they reached the doors to the Great Hall. "Thanks for telling me."  
  
Harry felt a wave of guilt wash over him as he pushed against the heavy doors and followed Ron into the dining hall. However, the feeling vanished instantly as he glanced over to the Slytherin table and shared a private look with Draco. He smiled as he sat down and helped himself to some eggs, sausage, and toast.  
  
"Rough night, Harry?" Hermione asked.  
  
"Yeah, Snape was being a complete prat as usual."  
  
"Well, maybe this will teach you not to lose your temper again. I know what he said was uncalled for," she said quickly as Harry opened his mouth angrily. "But you still should exercise some control when it comes to the Slytherins. You know they always play dirty, are rude _and_ are major pains in the ass."  
  
"Here, here!" Ron chorused, holding his glass of pumpkin juice up in agreement.  
  
"Maybe not all of them," Harry said quietly.  
  
"What do you mean?" Ron asked in shock. "Of course they're all evil, that's why they're in that house to begin with."  
  
"But what if one of them wanted to change?"  
  
"Would never happen," Ron said firmly, shaking his head. "And if it did, then it'd just be part of some evil plan that they had going."  
  
"You honestly don't think that they can change?"  
  
"Harry, I would've thought that you'd be the last person to ever think there was any good in the Slytherins," Hermione said.  
  
"I think everyone deserves a second chance," Harry replied, not quite meeting her eyes.  
  
"Even Zabini?" Ron asked pointedly.  
  
"Yes..."  
  
"What about Snape?" Ron snickered.  
  
"Well, maybe not Snape," Harry smiled.  
  
"What about Malfoy?" Seamus asked, getting in on the conversation.  
  
Harry stopped smiling and looked at Draco who was busy spreading jam on a piece of toast.  
  
"I guess he doesn't count," Ron smiled, misinterpreting Harry's silence.  
  
"Of course he does," Harry said, his eyes still glued to Draco.  
  
Ron gaped at him in shock. "You can't be serious? He doesn't deserve a second chance! He's been a right bastard to all of us since our first day here, especially to you, Harry. Personally, I would never forgive him."  
  
Harry covered up how hurt he was by looking down at his plate while the others all nodded their agreement with Ron.  
  
"Why the sudden change of heart, Harry?" Hermione asked.  
  
Harry shrugged and looked up at Draco again.  
  
"What was he like over the summer? You must have spent a lot of time together," Hermione asked.  
  
"Actually-"  
  
"Oh, I know why," Ron suddenly burst out.  
  
"What?" Harry asked in alarm, tearing his eyes from Draco.  
  
"Harry's got quite the crush on a certain Slytherin."  
  
"Who?" they all asked breathlessly, leaning towards Ron.  
  
Harry closed his eyes, bracing himself.  
  
"Ethan."  
  
"What?!" Harry exclaimed, his eyes flying open again.  
  
"Don't try to hide it, Harry. It's pretty obvious," Ron smirked.  
  
Everyone turned to look at Harry, then over to Ethan at the Slytherin table. Harry's cheeks flushed in mortification as Ethan looked up and gave him a cheerful wave.  
  
"Ah, now it all falls into place," Seamus winked.  
  
"I don't like him!" Harry cried.  
  
"So its _love then is it, Harry?" Dean teased.  
  
Harry buried his face in his hands and desperately hoped that the floor would open up and swallow him. They all burst out laughing and Hermione patted his shoulder comfortingly, even as she giggled along with the rest of them.  
  
Draco watched Harry being teased mercilessly by his so-called friends in anger. He was tempted to take out his wand and curse them all for being so insensitive. He didn't know what they were saying, but Harry was so obviously uncomfortable that it made his blood boil.  
  
Harry finally had had enough and stood abruptly to leave.  
  
"Don't go, Harry," Ron said, wiping away a tear of laughter. "We were just kidding."  
  
"Yes, and it was hilarious," Harry said through gritted teeth. "Ha, ha."  
  
Harry turned and stalked away to the doors, and suddenly Ethan was right beside him. "Oh, great!" he thought. "Just what I need."  
  
"Hi, Harry," Ethan greeted warmly.  
  
"Er, hi," Harry said, wanting to escape.  
  
Draco watched tensely as Ethan tried to strike up a conversation with his boyfriend.  
  
"How are you feeling?" Ethan asked in genuine concern.  
  
"Much better," Harry smiled, suddenly feeling bad for trying to brush him off when he had so kindly helped him out before. "Thanks again for helping me."  
  
"No problem," Ethan grinned. "Anytime."  
  
"Well..."  
  
"Do you want to go to Hogsmeade with me?" Ethan asked.  
  
"T...Today?" Harry stammered.  
  
"Yeah, I've never been."  
  
"Um, I sort of already have plans..." Harry said hesitantly.  
  
"That's okay," Ethan smiled. "Another time perhaps."  
  
"Yeah, sure."  
  
"See you around, Harry," Ethan said with a wave.  
  
Harry walked out the doors as Ethan returned to his seat.  
  
"Give up, Ethan," Vincent Balkwill said to him as he sat down.  
  
"I think I might have to," Ethan sighed unhappily.  
  
Draco grinned into his pumpkin juice.  
  
"He's already seeing someone."  
  
Draco put down his mug and listened closely.  
  
"Who?" Pansy demanded.  
  
"Don't know, he didn't say," Ethan shrugged.  
  
"Is it a boy?" she persisted.  
  
Again Ethan shrugged.  
  
"Well, who would've thought that the Golden-boy dating some one could be kept such a secret," Blaise said.  
  
"I wonder who it is?" Pansy pondered aloud. "It's probably a Gryffindork."  
  
"Definitely," Blaise agreed with a nod.  
  
"What about Granger?" Pansy asked, looking over at the Gryffindor table.  
  
"And if it's a boy?" Ethan asked with a smile.  
  
"Longbottom," Blaise grinned.  
  
They all burst out laughing as Draco seethed in silent anger, as if his Harry would ever stoop so low as to date that fat idiot. _

        Unnoticed, Ethan watched him carefully out of the corner of his eye.  
  
Draco finished his breakfast as fast as he could without arising suspicion, then left the Hall to make a quick stop in the kitchens before heading out to meet Harry.  
  


                        *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *                        
  


        Harry, securely covered with his invisibility cloak, was waiting for Draco near the Whomping Willow, idly drawing pictures in the ground with the end of a long stick. If anyone came outside at that moment they would have seen a stick in mid-air tracing 'Harry & Draco' in the dirt all by itself.  
  
Harry glanced up and saw Draco himself emerge from the school into the bright sunshine, a large knapsack slung over one shoulder. Draco smiled when he noticed the stick moving of its own accord. Harry quickly wiped out the writing with his foot and dropped the stick.  
  
"Not being very careful are you, Potter?" Draco smirked, picking it up.  
  
"I got bored," Harry answered. "What took you so long?"  
  
"I got us some refreshments for the day," Draco smiled. "Those house- elves are so helpful and eager to please. We have enough food to last us for two days."  
  
Harry grinned even though Draco couldn't see it.  
  
Draco walked as close as possible to the Whomping Willow and used the stick to push the secret knot, Harry keeping watch for any wandering students or Professors. The tree stopped its wild thrashing and obediently opened up. Draco and Harry quickly clambered through before it could close again. Harry removed his invisibility cloak as Draco used his wand to light the dim passageway. They smiled at each other, feeling giddy with euphoria at their freedom. They joined hands and walked up the passageway together towards their private room in the Shrieking Shack.

        Draco dumped the over-stuffed knapsack onto the bed and turned around to watch Harry fold his invisibility cloak over the back of one of the chairs. Harry looked up and locked eyes with Draco, both of them smiling softly. Then, as if pulled by an invisible string, they walked forward and embraced each other.  
  
Harry laid his head on Draco's shoulder as the Slytherin held him tightly. Draco turned his head to rub his cheek reverently in Harry's raven hair, inhaling the intoxicating smell of tangerines from his shampoo and closing his eyes with a sigh of content.  
  
The peaceful stillness was broken by a loud rumble from Harry's stomach. 

         The two burst out laughing, as Harry sheepishly apologized, "sorry, I kind of didn't get a chance to eat breakfast this morning."  
  
"So let's eat now," Draco smiled, placing a quick kiss on Harry's lips and turning towards the bed.  
  
Harry pulled Draco back and kissed him deeply. Draco moaned at the sudden fierceness of Harry's lips and opened his mouth to him, allowing Harry to take control as he used his tongue to explore Draco's mouth, the taste as familiar as his own.  
  
Draco pulled back breathlessly and arched a brow in amusement.  
  
"Do you want to eat now or _later_?" he asked suggestively.  
  
Harry's stomach let out another growl before he could reply, effectively answering Draco's question for him.  
  
Draco laughed. "Well, that answers that I guess."  
  
Harry pretended to pout as Draco walked over to the bed and opened up the knapsack.  
  
"Come on, Harry," he smirked. "You're going to need your strength for today."  
  
This was accompanied by such a cartoonish display of eyebrow wiggling that Harry had to break his pouty expression with a snort that quickly turned into unbridled laughter. Draco smiled as he began to unpack the food and lay it out on the bed. He loved listening to Harry's infectious laughter.  
  
"Okay," Draco announced. "We have ham and turkey sandwiches, cold chicken, boiled potatoes, chips, and Yorkshire pudding. For dessert there's jelly, trifle, and your favourite - treacle tarts."  
  
"Excellent," Harry beamed, licking his lips in anticipation.  
  
Draco sat cross-legged on the bed while Harry began to attack the chicken.  
  
"Aren't you having any?" Harry asked between bites.  
  
"I just had breakfast so I'm not hungry yet, but don't worry I'm sure I'll work up an appetite later."  
  
Harry rolled his eyes and continued eating, sampling a little bit of everything, while Draco leaned back and looked on with an affectionate smile.

                        *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *  
  
  
         Ethan watched in amazement as the tree opened up to reveal a hidden entrance and Draco Malfoy, accompanied by an invisible Harry Potter, climbed inside. He waited until it had closed up again before heading back to the school.  
  
"Hey, Balkwill!" Ethan called to his fellow seventh year Slytherin in the common room.  
  
"What?"  
  
Ethan sat down in the armchair facing the couch where Vincent Balkwill was eating a chocolate éclair and reading a thick, black book.  
  
"Are there any secret passageways in this school?"  
  
Vincent put down his book and thought for a second. "I think there's a few, but I'm not sure where they are."  
  
"What about outside?"  
  
"Outside?"  
  
"Yeah, around the grounds anywhere?" Ethan asked casually.  
  
"Not that I know of," Vincent frowned. "Why the sudden interest?"  
  
"Oh, just curious. My last school had lots of them all over the place and I was just wondering if Hogwarts had them too."  
  
"Too bad the Weasley twins weren't still here," Vincent smirked. "They knew every inch of this place."  
  
"Weasley twins? Were they Slytherin?" Ethan asked interestedly.  
  
"No, Gryffindor unfortunately. They would've made good Slytherins though. Their younger brother and sister still go here, fifth and sixth years. In fact one of them is best friends with your little boyfriend."  
  
Ethan smiled at this new piece of information. "Really? So his brothers probably passed down all that information to him, right?"  
  
"Probably," Vincent shrugged, losing interest in the conversation.  
  
"Hmm...well, I'll see you later." Ethan got up and walked back into the corridor, thinking hard as he slowly meandered through the school.  
  
As he reached the Entrance Hall, two girls he recognized as Gryffindors came through the doors from outside. They looked at each other and giggled when they saw him. Ethan flashed them a smile and walked over.  
  
"Bonnes dames de matin," he greeted them charmingly. "I was wondering if you could help me with something?"  
  
"Of course," Emma Collins said in awe.  
  
"Did you know the Weasley twins?"  
  
"Not really, but their sister is in our year."  
  
"They dropped out of school last year to start a joke shop," Kate volunteered, eager to say something.  
  
"Perfect!" Ethan smiled. "I was looking to buy some products from their joke shop. Do you know who I could talk to about ordering something?"  
  
"Well, you could talk to Ron Weasley, but he hates Slytherins so maybe that's not such a good idea. Why don't you try Ginny Weasley?"  
  
"Hates Slytherins, hm?" Ethan murmured, processing that little piece of information. "Thanks for the warning."  
  
"We don't though," Emma was quick to add.  
  
"I'm glad," Ethan winked. "I'll go look for Ginny now. Thanks for all your help ladies."  
  
The two girls giggled and walked upstairs.  
  
Ethan smirked at their retreating backs then went off in search of Ginny Weasley.  
  
  


                        *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *  
  


        Draco gazed hungrily at Harry's naked chest as Harry slowly removed his shirt. He loved how Harry could look shy and yet so sexual at the same time - it drove him crazy.  
  
Harry lifted his jumper over his head and dropped it to the dusty floor, before stepping forward to unbutton Draco's dark green shirt. He opened it wide and ran his hands up Draco's stomach and chest, over his shoulders and down his arms, forcing the shirt to slip off and flutter to the ground.  
  
Draco made an appreciative humming sound in the back of his throat as Harry's warm hands glided over his skin.  
  
Harry slipped his arms around Draco's waist and pulled them together, their bare skin connecting and creating a delicious warmth between the two heated bodies. Draco wrapped an arm around Harry's back and the other around his shoulders, one hand softly caressing the back of Harry's neck.  
  
Harry closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against Draco's as they simply held each other.  
  
Time stood still in their secret room in the Shrieking Shack, there was no Voldemort here, no death and destruction, no war, no hate, no Slytherins and Gryffindors. The world faded away except for this time and place, in the simplicity of holding some one and being held in return. Feeling safe and utterly complete. Although love is a feeling, anyone who could've seen Draco and Harry in that moment would've said that they had seen real love - true, raw, and beautiful.  
  
"I love you."  
  
Harry's eyes flew open and looked into Draco's grey depths. "What did you say?" he whispered.  
  
Draco smiled and leaned in so that his lips were right next to Harry's ear. "I love you," he breathed.  
  
Two tears leaked out from Harry's emerald eyes and trailed down his cheek. "I love you too, Draco."  
  
Draco pulled back and touched his finger to Harry's cheek, catching the tear before it could fall. "Why are you crying, Harry?" he asked softly.  
  
"No one's ever said that to me," he mumbled. "No one's ever loved me before."  
  
Draco looked into Harry's beautiful eyes sadly, no one deserved to be loved more than Harry did. Draco smiled and kissed away the other tear on Harry's cheek, capturing the saltiness on his lips. He then touched his lips to Harry's and the tear was absorbed into the tender kiss.  
  
Harry kissed back slowly, the gentle caress of Draco's lips against his own as they reassured each other of their love.  
  
Draco walked Harry backwards towards the bed and gently lowered him to the mattress. He then lay down next to him and they wrapped each other in a tangle of arms and legs, hands wonderingly caressing faces and hair as their lips continued to taste and kiss each other sweetly.  
  
Draco moved on top of Harry, and Harry's legs automatically came up to lock around his hips. Harry looked up into Draco's face and pushed a stray lock of silver-blond hair off of his forehead.  
  
"I love you," Harry smiled.  
  
"I love you," Draco whispered. "So much."  
  
He leaned down and captured Harry's lips in another kiss. As Harry let his eyes fall shut he finally felt a sense of home wash over him. This was right, this was where he belonged, and he wanted it to last forever.


	5. Behind Closed Doors

       "Are you Ginny Weasley?"  
  
Ginny looked up from her homework and saw Ethan standing across from her at the library table she was occupying. "Yes," she answered, laying down her quill.  
  
"Could I talk to you for a minute?" he asked with a smile.  
  
"Sure," she said slowly, wondering what a Slytherin wanted to talk to her about.  
  
Ethan sat down and folded his hands on top of the table in a very business-like manner. "I've been told that two of your older brothers own their own joke shop. Is that true?"  
  
"Yep, Fred and George," Ginny smiled. "They're seventeen."  
  
"Wow," Ethan said, impressed. "Shouldn't they be in school still?"  
  
"They dropped out last year because of this horrible woman who took over the school. You're lucky you didn't come last year, it was a horrible time. They were going to open a joke shop anyway, they just ended up doing it a year earlier."  
  
"They must be fun brothers to have around," Ethan grinned.  
  
"Yeah, they're always pulling practical jokes on people and inventing useful things to get you out of class," Ginny chuckled.  
  
Ethan laughed. "I heard they knew every secret passageway around Hogwarts, too."  
  
"Oh yeah," Ginny nodded proudly. "All of them."  
  
"They must tell you all that good stuff too, am I right?"  
  
"Of course, they love it when we carry on their tradition of school rule breaking."  
  
"My old school had lots of secret passageways as well, I kind of have an interest in that sort of thing. I've only found one here so far."  
  
"Really? Which one?"  
  
"It's outside, under that monster of a tree."  
  
"The Whomping Willow? How on earth did you come across that one?" Ginny asked in amazement.  
  
"By accident really," Ethan smiled. "I got too close to it when I was walking outside and it took a swipe at me, almost got me too, so I very immaturely picked up a rock and threw it at the trunk in retaliation. Well, I must have hit some special spot because it stopped thrashing about and opened right up."  
  
"Wow, did you go through?"  
  
"No, I was too shocked and I didn't know if I would be able to get out again. Some brave explorer I am, huh?"  
  
"You wouldn't want to go through anyway, it leads to the Shrieking Shack."  
  
Ethan leaned forward, a hungry look in his eyes. "What is the Shrieking Shack?"  
  
"It's a haunted house in Hogsmeade, do you know that village?"  
  
"Yes. It's haunted you say?"  
  
"Very, no one dares even to step foot in there anymore."  
  
"So, no one ever goes in there, it's completely secluded, and the entrance is a secret...." Ethan said slowly.  
  
"Yep," Ginny nodded in affirmation.  
  
"Anyway," Ethan shook his head slightly. "The reason I wanted to talk to you in the first place was to ask if I could order something from you from your brother's shop."  
  
"What is it you want?"  
  
"I'm not sure, what do they have?"  
  
"Well, do you want something to give to other people as a joke? Like food that changes someone's hair colour or turns them into an animal."  
  
"Oh no, nothing like that." Ethan laughed. "That would be mean."  
  
"You're sure not like other Slytherins," Ginny noted with pleasure.  
  
"So I've noticed, I don't really feel like I belong there. Some of the things they say and do behind closed doors...." Ethan shook his head in disgust.  
  
"That must be awful for you," Ginny sympathized, patting his hand.  
  
"It's alright," Ethan shrugged. "There's no law saying I can't talk to people in other houses, right?"  
  
"That's right," Ginny smiled. She admired his brown eyes for a second before coming to her senses. "So what kind of things were you looking to order?"  
  
"Perhaps, something to get me out of class on occasion."  
  
"Well, I highly recommend the Skiving Snackboxes."  
  
"Excellent. I'll take one and give the money to you now. How much?"  
  
"Five galleons. So what class are you looking to skive off?" she asked, as he handed over some money from his pocket.  
  
"Potions," Ethan said, pulling a face.  
  
"Not a fan of Professor Snape, I take it?" Ginny giggled.  
  
"Not really," he smiled.  
  
"I think the Sorting Hat may have put you in the wrong house."  
  
"Me too," he laughed.  
  
"So, do you want to know any other Hogwarts secrets? Hidden rooms, secret entrances, or other passageways?" Ginny offered with a mischievous glint in her eye.  
  
One corner of Ethan's lips curled up and his eyes narrowed in delight. "Of course," he said leaning closer. "Tell me everything you know."  
  


                        *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *  
  


        Draco smiled as he watched Harry sleeping soundly next to him. He leaned over and placed a soft kiss on Harry's bare shoulder, before getting quietly out of bed and slipping across the room to the informal picnic laid out on the floor. He sat himself down and picked up one of the turkey sandwiches, delicately tearing little pieces off of it and popping them into his mouth. He mentally scolded himself for not thinking to bring pumpkin juice as he began to feel thirsty.  
  
Harry stirred on the bed and rolled over, his hand reaching out to where Draco had been lying. He opened his eyes and sat up, looking around and smiling when he caught sight of Draco sitting on the floor.  
  
"Morning," Draco greeted, waving his sandwich in the air. "Lunch?"  
  
Harry laughed and reached for his clothes lying on the floor.  
  
"Uh, uh." Draco wagged a finger at him. "If you put on clothes then you don't get to eat."  
  
"Well, I can't eat while you're sitting next to me, with all your....bits and pieces showing."  
  
Draco snorted and almost choked on his food. "You are too innocent for words, Harry. You can't sit next to me naked even after all the stuff we just did? The stuff _you just did?"  
  
"That's different!" Harry replied, his cheeks reddening. "There's a time and a place for everything and being nude while you eat just isn't...right."  
  
"What if we combined the two?" Draco smirked. "Can't people spread edible substances, say chocolate sauce, onto another person's naked skin and then eat it off of them?"  
  
"But that's different," Harry protested. "That's not eating because you're hungry, that's just erotic foreplay."  
  
"Why, Harry, I'm impressed! You said that without blushing."  
  
Harry rolled his eyes and made to grab his clothes again.  
  
"Uh, uh," Draco said, with a shake of his finger.  
  
"Draco...." Harry whined.  
  
Draco turned his back on Harry and began to smack his lips loudly. "Mmm...this is delicious!" he exaggerated.  
  
Harry grabbed the pillow from off the bed and threw it at the back of Draco's head.  
  
"Ow!" he yelled in surprise. The blond turned around and glared in mock anger. "You are going to get it, Harry."  
  
"Oh yeah? What are you going to do?" Harry asked haughtily.  
  
Draco stood up and started walking slowly towards him, like a panther stalking its prey. "Watch out, Harry," he said menacingly. "I'm coming at you with all my bits and pieces."  
  
Harry rolled back onto the bed with laughter and Draco leapt on top of him, pinning his hands down with one arm and tickling his bare stomach.  
  
"No! Please, stop!" Harry gasped in between giggles. "Draco!"  
  
Draco grinned and stopped, staring down at Harry's flushed face. "How about a compromise?" he offered.  
  
"What?" Harry asked sceptically.  
  
"How about we eat on the bed? That way we can cover our 'bits' with the sheets but still be essentially naked."  
  
"Deal," Harry accepted.  
  
Draco kissed the tip of his nose and scrambled off to retrieve the food. Harry swept the sheets back and wrapped them around his waist as he settled near the pillows. Draco slipped in next to him and spread the food out in front of them.  
  
"We should build a tent," Harry mused as he nibbled on the edge of a piece of chicken.  
  
"Go ahead," Draco said with a smirk. It wasn't the first time Harry had suggested it, and wouldn't be the last, but the boy never found the energy to actually go through with it.  
  
"Maybe...." Harry said thoughtfully, knowing full well that he probably wouldn't.  
  
Draco shook his head and licked the tips of his fingers as he eyed the last treacle tart with a predatory gaze. Harry glanced sideways at Draco, noticing the particular item that he had his eye on, and grabbed it.  
  
"Hey!" Draco exclaimed. "You already had three!"  
  
"And this makes four," Harry smirked in triumph.  
  
"I don't think so, Potter," Draco growled.  
  
Harry shuffled backwards and held the tart to his lips. He stuck out his tongue and licked the tart with one long swipe. "There, now you won't want it!" he declared childishly.  
  
"Well, if that's the rule then I guess I don't want this anymore either," he said, gesturing to his lap.  
  
"Draco!" Harry cried, horrified.  
  
Draco took the opportunity to reach out and grab the tart from Harry's grasp. "I'll explain it to you when you're older. Geez, Harry, maybe you should be in Hufflepuff."  
  
"Hey!" Harry spluttered indignantly. "I am not a Hufflepuff!"  
  
Draco smiled and took a bite of his prize, closing his eyes in mock ecstasy. Harry crossed his arms over his chest and pouted.  
  
"That's not going to work this time," Draco said, eyes still closed.  
  
Harry uncrossed his arms and crawled over to the Slytherin, leaning forward to lick a crumb from the corner of Draco's mouth.  
  
Draco opened his eyes in surprise and wasted no time in leaning in to capture Harry's lips with his own. Harry kept his eyes open while he kissed, keeping one eye on the tart in Draco's hand. Draco finally put the tart down and reached his hand up to Harry's hair and cheek, increasing the passion of the kiss quickly. Harry smiled against Draco's lips and secretively picked up the forgotten dessert.  
  
"Aha!" Harry cried, breaking apart and jumping backwards, waving the half-eaten tart triumphantly in the air.  
  
Draco gaped at him in shock as Harry shoved the entire thing into his mouth and chewed. "That was very Slytherin of you," he commented with a raised brow.  
  
Harry swallowed with difficulty and smiled, trying and failing to raise one brow. Draco sniggered as Harry used his finger to poke at his eyebrow in concentration.  
  
"How do you do that?" Harry asked in frustration. "Do they pull you aside in Slytherin and teach a separate class?"  
  
"Yep, Snape gathers all first year Slytherins to him and spends an hour teaching the new students all aspects of looking snooty and superior."  
  
"So you admit it!" Harry grinned, still concentrating on his eyebrow.  
  
"Snape says I'm a natural."  
  
"I don't doubt that," Harry snorted.  
  
Draco couldn't help laughing at Harry as he tried to look up at his own eyebrow, forehead wrinkled in concentration. "Come here, you."  
  
Harry gave up and crawled back over to Draco, snuggling down into his arms. Draco lifted the sheets back up to cover them both and squeezed Harry gently, as one might a favourite teddy bear. They both closed their eyes and after awhile fell into a deep sleep, feeling warm and content._

                        *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *  
  


        Ethan carefully prodded the trunk with the stick he had seen Draco use, and the tree immediately stilled and opened up before him. He grinned and looked around once to really make sure he was alone before slipping inside. He found himself in a very dark and dusty tunnel, he lit his wand and started up the dirt packed trail, looking around him carefully and listening closely for any sounds of human life.  
  
After awhile, he found himself in what he thought must be the Shrieking Shack. He crept cautiously to every door and put his ear against them, the floorboards squeaking slightly under his feet. He glanced down and noticed two pairs of footprints in the layers of dust covering the wooden floor. He smiled and began to follow their trail, his heart beating in excitement and his hands shaking at what he hoped to find.  
  
The trail stopped at the last door in the hall and Ethan walked towards it purposefully. He grasped the handle and turned it as slowly as possible, then pulled it open a crack – it didn't make a sound, and he breathed a sigh of relief.  
  
He peeked through the small crack he had allowed in the doorway and looked around. The room was filled with a pale light shining through a pair of old, tattered curtains hanging over the window. The light fell upon a giant four poster bed on which lay Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy.  
  
Ethan's eyes widened as he noticed that both boys were completely naked and wrapped in each other's arms. An evil grin slowly spread across his handsome face as the wheels in his head began to turn. This was even better than he was hoping for, he never thought that they'd have gone this far.  
  
"A Slytherin and a Gryffindor," he thought happily. "Malfoy and Potter. No one's going to believe me....but they'll have to believe it if they see it for themselves."  
  
With one last look, he gently closed the door behind him and started back to the entrance of the passageway. He almost felt like humming as he stepped lightly along the path and exited the tree onto the grounds. Luckily, no one saw him emerge and he decided to walk around the lake while he worked out the best course of action.  
  


                        *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *  
  


         Draco opened one eye sleepily and looked towards the door. He blinked. He shook his head as he thought he saw it close and listened closely, but didn't hear any retreating footsteps. He sighed and closed his eyes again. Harry shifted in his arms and he rested his chin in Harry's soft hair as he drifted off to sleep once more.  
  



	6. Everything's Made To Be Broken

        The rest of the weekend passed by in a heavenly blur for Harry, he and Draco made it back just in time for dinner Saturday night, and Sunday was spent studying and doing homework with each other in the Shrieking Shack.  
  
Then Monday morning came and he dragged his feet along the ground towards his first class of the day. He hated Mondays. He was finding it more and more difficult to return to his every day life during the week after the blissful weekends he spent with Draco. It was also getting harder and harder to think up excuses to give Ron and Hermione about his frequent disappearing act, he hated lying to his friends but he wanted to be with Draco no matter what it cost him.  
  
"Hey, Harry!"  
  
Harry turned and hitched his bag higher up onto his shoulder as he watched Ethan struggle through the crowd towards him.  
  
"Hi, Ethan," Harry greeted, glancing at his watch.  
  
"We're sharing Transfiguration today," Ethan smiled.  
  
"We are?" Harry asked in confusion.  
  
"Yes, McGonagall is leaving in the afternoon and she needs to combine our two classes so that we don't miss anything. She only has four classes today, so she's combining the first year Hufflepuffs with the fourth year Ravenclaws, and the sixth year Gryffindors with the seventh year Slytherins."  
  
"I wonder where she's going?" Harry frowned.  
  
"No idea, can I walk with you to class?" Ethan smiled.  
  
"I guess," Harry shrugged.  
  
They set off down the corridor together, heading towards McGonagall's room. Blaise passed by in the opposite direction and gave them a funny look.  
  
Harry dumped his bag onto one of the tables and sat down. Ethan hesitated before walking to the other side of the room and sitting by himself on the Slytherin side.  
  
"Harry, you left without us," Hermione accused as she entered the room with Ron.  
  
"Oh, sorry guys." Harry smiled apologetically. "I thought you'd already gone."  
  
Ron dropped his books onto the table beside Harry and sat down. "Strange about McGonagall combining classes, huh?"  
  
"Yeah, I wonder where she's going?" Harry replied, glancing at the door.  
  
"She probably has a job to do for the Order," Hermione said quietly.  
  
"Dumbledore doesn't usually take them away from their teaching though."  
  
"I hope everything's okay," Hermione said, chewing on her bottom lip.  
  
"Hey, what's this about you walking to class with that French Slytherin guy?" Ron interrupted.  
  
"What do you mean?" Harry asked as he turned to face Ron.  
  
"I heard you two were walking to class together," Ron winked.  
  
"Yeah, so?"  
  
"Never mind," he smiled knowingly as he opened his text book.  
  
"Why didn't you ask him to sit with us?" Hermione asked as she spotted Ethan sitting alone.  
  
"I dunno...."  
  
"Well, that was rude of you. Ginny said he's really sweet and that he doesn't get on with the other Slytherins at all."  
  
"How does Ginny know him?" Ron asked.  
  
"She said he ordered something from the twin's shop from her and they started talking. She said he bought a Skiving Snackbox, and when she asked if he wanted anything to give to other people he just laughed and said that that was mean."  
  
"Wow, I think he's in the wrong house," Ron said in surprise.  
  
Harry glanced over to Ethan and saw that he was still sitting alone and doodling absentmindedly in his notebook.  
  
"I feel sorry for him, forced to live with the Slytherins," Hermione said as she followed Harry's gaze. "Why don't you ask him to sit with us, Harry?"  
  
"Yeah, maybe I should," Harry said slowly. He did feel bad for the guy, being shoved into a house with the worst reputation at a new school. He knew from Draco some of the things that went on in there and he shuddered to think of someone of Ethan's character trying to survive. Harry stood up and walked over to Ethan. 

       "Do you want to come sit with us?"  
  
Ethan looked up and smiled gratefully. "Sure."  
  
He packed up his stuff and followed Harry back over to his table. Ron and Hermione moved over so that Harry could sit beside Ethan.  
  
"Thanks," Ethan said as he sat down, flashing Harry another one of his patented white smiles.  
  
Harry just grinned back and opened up his text book as Professor McGonagall came striding in, looking a little flustered.  
  
"Alright, let's get started," she barked.  
  


                        *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *  
  
  
Harry waved cheerfully at Ethan as they parted ways after class. Ethan had turned out to be very nice and helpful during class, whispering answers to Harry out of the corner of his mouth when he was called on and laughing with him when Neville accidentally transfigured his quill into a small snake, causing the terrified Gryffindor to leap backwards in fear.  
  
"Ginny was right," Hermione mused as they headed for Herbology. "Ethan is sweet."  
  
"Don't get any ideas, Hermione," Ron warned. "He already has his eye on, Harry."  
  
"So I've noticed," Hermione grinned, glancing at Harry.  
  
"Can we please let this drop?" Harry pleaded in exasperation. "My love life is not the only topic of conversation."  
  
"Hey, did you talk to Dumbledore about playing quidditch yet?" Ron asked.  
  
"No, I forgot." Harry realized. "I'll talk to him today."  
  
"Good, he'd better let you. The practices we've had so far have been terrible, no offence to my sister, but she's just not even in the same league as you."  
  
"I'll talk to him before dinner," Harry promised.  
  
The three continued on to class, talking excitedly about the upcoming quidditch season.  
  


                        *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *  
  


         The rest of the week passed by achingly slowly, Harry served detention each night with Snape and found himself getting so exhausted that he had to stop meeting Draco afterwards. He was literally counting the seconds until Saturday. The only bright spot of the week was when Dumbledore had announced that Harry would again be allowed to join the Gryffindor quidditch team. Ethan had come up to congratulate him personally, causing Ron to nudge him with a smirk and Draco to fume silently from the Slytherin table. Harry just grinned happily and blushed as his house-mates clapped enthusiastically around him.  
  
Saturday couldn't come fast enough for Harry, then finally it was here. He jumped out of bed in the early hours of the morning and threw on his clothes, then practically skipped all the way to the Whomping Willow. He saw Draco already standing there, his breath coming out in little puffs in the chilly morning air. Apparently he wasn't the only one who had been extremely impatient.  
  
"Draco!" Harry called.  
  
Draco turned and saw Harry sprinting towards him. He smiled and swung Harry into his arms when he reached him, not caring if anyone saw them or not at that moment.  
  
He set Harry back down and grabbed the stick to trigger the secret opening. Smiling, he pulled Harry through the entrance and they disappeared into the tunnel.  
  
Ethan straightened up from his crouching position in the garden next to the school entrance and wiped his hands on his trousers with a smirk. He turned and walked all the way to the owlery. 

        He reached into his school robe and pulled out the parchment, quill and ink that he had hidden there, before settling down onto the floor. He thoughtfully chewed on the end of the quill for a minute, then began to write.  
  
He completed four separate letters and sat back to read them over. With a nod of approval, he sealed them into envelopes and stood up to look around for Harry's owl, thanks to Ginny he had found out that Harry owned the only snowy white owl in the school, so it wasn't hard to find.  
  
He finally spotted her near the rafters and called her down. She accepted two of the letters with dignity then flew off out the window. He sent the last two letters with another owl and watched as it carried them away.  
  
Ethan sighed and clasped his hands behind his back as he wandered back out into the school halls.  
  
"It's only a matter of time now," he thought darkly, as he walked back to his room in the Slytherin dorms.  
  


                        *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *  
  


        Ron woke up suddenly to the sound of something tapping at the window. He muttered grouchily as he pulled back his drapes and looked out. Hedwig was standing on the sill with two envelopes clutched in her beak.  
  
"Hedwig?"  
  
He quickly unlatched the window and held out his hand for the letters. She dropped only one of them in and turned to fly away again  
  
"Hey, wait!" he called, but she was already soaring off around the side of the school.  
  
He shut the window and climbed back into bed to warm his cold feet as he ripped open the letter and read:  
  
~ Ron,  
  
   Come to the Shrieking Shack immediately. There's something you need to know.   
  
Ron flipped it over in confusion. It wasn't signed but he assumed it was from Harry, it was Hedwig after all who delivered it. He stood up and slipped into his clothes, tossing the letter back onto the bed.  
  
He was just entering the common room when Hermione emerged from the girl's staircase.  
  
"Hermione, did you get a letter too?"  
  
"Yes," she said, waving it in the air. "Did Harry sign yours?"  
  
"No, do you think maybe they're not from Harry?"  
  
"I'm not sure, maybe he just figured we'd know since they were from Hedwig."  
  
"No one else knows how to get into the Shrieking Shack anyway," Ron reasoned.  
  
Hermione nodded thoughtfully. "That's true."  
  
The two cautiously made their way down into the grounds, hugging their cloaks around themselves as the cold air hit them. They paused by the Whomping Willow. Hermione summoned a large stick, laying on the ground by the trunk, to her outstretched hand and hesitantly pressed the secret knot.  
  
"Weasley! Granger!"  
  
Hermione and Ron turned in surprise and saw Blaise and Pansy coming towards them across the dew-covered grass.  
  
"What are you doing here?" Ron asked stiffly.  
  
"We received letters that told us to meet you guys at the Whomping Willow," Pansy answered haughtily. "So what do you want?"  
  
"We didn't send any letters," Ron denied angrily.  
  
"Can I see?" Hermione asked.  
  
Blaise gave the parchment over to Hermione and stuffed his hands back into his pockets for warmth.  
  
"Hmm...." Hermione thoughtfully scanned the letter. "There's no signature and it's the same writing. I don't think these are from Harry."  
  
"Potter's missing too?" Pansy asked, then glanced at Blaise and raised an eyebrow at him in silent question.  
  
"Draco isn't in his room either," Blaise explained.  
  
"Malfoy? Why would he have anything to do with this?" Hermione asked with a frown.  
  
"Unless he kidnapped Harry and took him into the Shrieking Shack!" Ron suddenly exclaimed.  
  
"Please," Pansy rolled her eyes. "Draco would not wake up early on a Saturday just to drag Potter into a haunted house for the hell of it, and by himself."  
  
"How do you know he's by himself?" Ron demanded. "Are you in on this too?"  
  
"Shut-up," Hermione ordered. "Why don't we just go inside and see?"  
  
"Inside what? The Shrieking Shack is miles away. I am not walking all that way," Pansy retorted indignantly.  
  
This time it was Hermione who asked Ron the silent question. Ron sighed and nodded.  
  
"There's a secret entrance to the Shrieking Shack under this tree," she explained.  
  
"What? How do you know?" Blaise asked in shock.  
  
"Never mind, let's just get this over with," Hermione muttered.  
  
"Maybe we should tell Dumbledore," Ron whispered to Hermione. "This could be a trap or something."  
  
"No, if Harry wanted to talk to us about something privately then we should trust him."  
  
"What if it's not him?"  
  
"But he's involved, Ron. He might need our help."  
  
"Alright, but I'm keeping my wand out and I'm letting them go first," he said jerking his head towards the two Slytherins who were conversing quietly together.  
  
"Let's go," Hermione called.  
  
She pushed the knot again, the opening having resealed itself when they were standing around arguing, and climbed through first.  
  
"Hurry," Ron ordered the Slytherins. "It doesn't stay open for long."  
  
Pansy glanced at the dirty opening dubiously, as Blaise climbed through.  
  
"Just go!" Ron cried shoving Pansy in the back and causing her to stumble through the doorway.  
  
Ron jumped in after her as the door began to close. He lit his wand and stared around as his eyes adjusted to the dimness of the tunnel. Blaise helped Pansy up from the ground as she glared daggers at Ron.  
  
"What the hell-"  
  
"Shh!" Hermione shushed Pansy's angry tirade before she could begin. "We should be quiet, we don't know what's down here."  
  
Pansy looked as if she wanted to say something, but stopped suddenly when they all heard something from down the dark tunnel.  
  
"Come on," Hermione whispered, her voice shaking slightly.  
  
The group made their way slowly up towards the house.  
  
"Where now?" Ron asked when they reached the inside of the Shack.  
  
"Let's start checking the rooms down the hall," Hermione suggested.  
  
They nodded and each opened one of the first four doors down the hallway. They were all empty. They moved on until only two doors were left, Blaise opened the one on the right and shook his head.  
  
"Why is it always the last door you check?" Ron asked quietly as they approached the final door.  
  
Hermione lifted her wand and grasped the handle. She turned it with a creak and swung it wide open.....


	7. Alone

       Hermione swung the door wide open and peered into the musty room.  
  
It was empty.  
  
"Anything there?" Ron asked, trying to look over Hermione's shoulder.  
  
"No, it's just some old junk room."  
  
"This is stupid," Pansy muttered. "I'm leaving."  
  
Pansy turned and walked crisply off down the hallway.  
  
"Wait!" Ron called to her. "We haven't checked upstairs yet."  
  
"There's an upstairs?" Blaise asked, glancing at the cobwebbed ceiling above them.  
  
"Let's go." Hermione closed the door and pushed through them as she led the way to the bottom of the staircase.  
  
Pansy watched them for a moment then rolled her eyes with a sigh as she followed grumpily behind.  
  
"Look!"  
  
They all looked to where Hermione was pointing and saw the footprints in the fine layer of dust covering the stairs. She glanced at Ron as they mounted the old staircase and cautiously started up. Pansy stuck close to Blaise's back as they took up the rear.  
  
"They lead right into that room at the end of the hall," Ron whispered.  
  
The group stopped and stood huddled together at the top of the stairs as they strained to hear any sounds coming from behind the closed door.  
  
"Come on," Hermione whispered.  
  
They carefully tread across the ancient floorboards towards it.  
  
"I think we'd better take out our wands, just in case," Hermione said quietly to the others as she reached into her cloak.  
  
They nodded nervously and removed their own wands from their pockets as they came to a stop in front of the door.  
  
"You know, we're going to feel really silly when we open this door and only find Harry sitting there waiting for us," Ron whispered, trying unsuccessfully to smile through the palpable fear permeating the narrow hallway.  
  
"Yes, we'll all have a good laugh about this later," Blaise whispered back.  
  
"Ready?" Hermione asked intensely, looking down at the rusty doorknob.  
  
"Ready," they answered back in hushed voices, raising their wands.  
  
Hermione grasped the knob and turned it achingly slowly, then pushed it open in one quick motion. The four immediately walked forth into the room, their bodies tensed and their wands at the ready. However, none of them were ready for the sight that greeted them.  
  
Fast asleep, and facing towards them on a large four poster bed were Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy. Draco was spooned up behind Harry with his arms around him and clasping Harry's hands to his chest. A white sheet covered them from the waist down, but they could tell that both boys were completely naked beneath it, their clothes littering the floor around the bed.  
  
Hermione's wand slipped from her fingers to the floor as she raised her hands to cover her gaping mouth. Ron paled and suddenly found it difficult to breathe properly. Blaise stood rooted to the spot, his eyes wide and his wand still pointing stupidly towards the centre of the room. Pansy was as pale as Ron but opened her mouth and let out an ear-piercing shriek.  
  
Harry and Draco suddenly jerked awake and sat bolt upright in bed.  
  
"Oh shit...." Draco breathed as he took in the shocked group.  
  
Harry merely swallowed and felt his pulse weaken as his mouth opened and closed nervously.  
  
"What the fuck is going on?" Pansy demanded as soon as she was able to form coherent speech again.  
  
"Pansy, I...." Draco trailed off as he suddenly realized that he had no idea of how to explain away the rather awkward situation.  
  
"Harry?" Ron managed to squeak, sure that this was some elaborate ruse that the Slytherins had thought up to freak them out.  
  
"Ron, I....." Harry found that he was no better off than Draco in trying to explain their new relationship to the expectant group.  
  
Hermione slowly reached down and picked up her wand, then took a deep breath to steady herself again.  
  
"Why don't we wait out in the hall while you two get dressed?" she spoke carefully, looking at the floor. "Then we can talk about....this."  
  
Harry managed a weak nod and the four of them filed out and shut the door.  
  
Draco was out of the bed like a shot and immediately began to wriggle into his discarded clothes.  
  
"What are we going to do?" Harry asked desperately, as he watched Draco's frantic movements.  
  
"It's going to be okay," Draco muttered, more to himself than to Harry.  
  
Harry pushed the sheet off of him and followed Draco's lead by slipping back into his wrinkled clothes. As he was snapping the clasp of his cloak together he looked up and saw Draco glance at him before opening the bedroom door and looking out.  
  
Hermione and Ron both entered again and stood looking at Draco in distrust.  
  
"Where's Pansy and Blaise?" Draco asked.  
  
"They left," Hermione informed him.  
  
Draco swore and took off down the hallway without a backwards glance.  
  
"Draco!" Harry called, as he started after him.  
  
Ron grabbed his arm as he tried to get by and threw him back into the room. "You're not going anywhere until you tell us what the hell is going on," he instructed with an edge to his voice.  
  
Harry looked miserably down the hallway after Draco but nodded and turned to perch on the edge of the bed.  
  
"Harry?" Hermione started gently. "Please tell us."  
  
Harry wrung his hands in his lap and looked away from his best friend's concerned faces. "Well, remember how Draco stayed with me at Hogwarts over the summer?" he began.  
  
"Yes...."  
  
"Well, he and I became friends-"  
  
"It sure looked like a hell of a lot more than just friends when we came in!" Ron interrupted.  
  
"Please just let me explain," Harry pleaded.  
  
Hermione placed a placatory hand on Ron's arm to quiet him.  
  
"He and I started talking. He apologized for a lot of things and he said that he didn't want to be a part of the dark side anymore. He's changed, for the better. He helped me a lot this past summer. You know, it's been a hard year for me, losing Sirius and all, not that I've ever had a good year but you know what I mean. And he helped me, after nightmares or when my scar hurt. He was so gentle and....good. Then we became closer. We helped each other heal and I've never felt so happy in my life, so content. He makes me feel safe and warm, and all those things that I've never experienced before. I need that right now, I need him. I love him."  
  
Hermione tightened her grip on Ron's arm to stop him from blurting out anything right away.  
  
"Does he love you?" she asked quietly.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Can you trust him?"  
  
"I trust him with my life. We've been alone together so many times and he's never tried anything. If you could just see the way he acts when we're together, you'd know. He's different now."  
  
"But he just left you without saying a word!" Ron spluttered, unable to remain silent any longer.  
  
"I understand his reaction though," Harry said, finally looking up. "If his father ever found out...."  
  
"I hope you know what you're doing, Harry," Hermione said with a doubtful shake of her head.  
  
"I love him," Harry repeated firmly.  
  
"Then I believe you," Hermione said with a small smile. "I trust your judgement. If you can get past Malfoy's previous behaviour and see something more than I trust you."  
  
Harry's eyes filled with tears as he looked into Hermione's earnest face.  
  
"I don't know how to thank you," he said, his voice catching. "It's been so hard to keep this a secret and lie to you guys. To feel so happy and not be able to share it with my best friends....thank you, Hermione."  
  
Hermione felt her own eyes misting over and sat down beside Harry to wrap her arms around him comfortingly.  
  
"Ron?" Harry asked hesitantly, looking over Hermione's head.  
  
Ron sighed and averted his eyes. "I don't know if I can just suddenly trust him, Harry. He's always been so horrible to us and for him to suddenly change.....I just don't know. I know you.....love him, but what if that's blinding you?"  
  
"I'll get him to talk to you guys, he told me that he would apologize to you too once this was all out in the open. I want you to get to know him, the _real him."  
  
"I just don't want to see you get hurt," Ron said meeting Harry's eyes.  
  
"I won't," Harry promised. "He would never hurt me, he loves me."  
  
"This is so hard to digest," Ron smiled faintly.  
  
"Are you going to be okay with it?" Harry asked, his eyes begging for understanding.  
  
"I'll try," Ron said firmly. "For your sake."  
  
Harry blinked rapidly and managed a choked thank you before he was overwhelmed by tears. Ron smiled and sat on the other side of Harry as the three hugged each other; one of them relieved beyond belief and the other two praying for this to all work out alright.  
  
_

                        *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *                        
  
  
Draco sprinted down the dungeon corridor and breathlessly called out the password to gain access to the Slytherin common room. He ran right into the midst of a gathering of students, staged in the centre of the circle was Pansy and Blaise. They all turned towards him as he entered. He saw a mixture of emotions written on his housemates faces; anger, disbelief, disgust, and in Pansy's case, smugness.  
  
"It's not true is it, Draco?" Crabbe asked with a smile of disbelief.  
  
"I can explain...." Draco started as he walked forward.  
  
"Oh God, it's true isn't it?" the smile disappearing instantly.  
  
"Harry Potter?" Goyle asked, almost as if in reassurance.  
  
"Yes, but-"  
  
"You're sleeping with Harry Potter?" some seventh year male gasped.  
  
"You don't understand-" Draco began again.  
  
"Then please explain it to us, because you're quickly running out of time, Malfoy," Vincent Balkwill stated harshly, his arms crossed over his chest.  
  
"You idiots," Draco snarled in frustration. "Do you know who my father is?"  
  
"Yeah, so?"  
  
"Do you think that my father would let me attend school with Harry Potter, the main target of the Dark Lord himself, and pass up the opportunity of being the only one allowed around the boy without maximum protection on him?"  
  
They glanced at each other dubiously, but relaxed their defensive stances.  
  
"So what's the plan? To fuck the boy-wonder and what? Compromise his virginity?" Balkwill asked with a doubtful snort.  
  
"No, you stupid prick. To gain his trust and use it to lead him away from the light side. The Dark Lord doesn't want him dead anymore, he wants to channel his power and use it for his own cause, or is your family not important enough to be let in on the Dark Lord's activities?"  
  
Balkwill looked away in embarrassment and remained quiet. Ethan sat smirking on the couch, taking in the whole situation with hidden glee.  
  
"So you're not dating, Potter?" Crabbe ventured hesitantly.  
  
"No, I'm not dating, Potter, you stupid fuck-wit," Draco answered despairingly.  
  
"Oh, well good," he beamed.  
  
Draco rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. "Any more questions?" he asked with a hint of a threat.  
  
They all shook their heads and began to make their way back to their previous activities.  
  
"You'd better not breathe a word of this to anyone outside of this house, do you understand?" he ordered loudly.  
  
"A word, Draco?"  
  
Draco felt a light hand on his arm and turned to see Pansy at his side. He nodded and followed her to the sixth year dorm hallway. Once she had checked to see that they were alone she immediately rounded on Draco with an angry storm raging in her icy eyes.  
  
"You may have fooled the rest of these morons, but I don't believe a word of that bullshit that you spouted out there," she hissed. "I saw you with Potter, that wasn't acting, you're not that good."  
  
"Oh please-" Draco sighed.  
  
"No, shut-up," she ground out, her eyes now throwing off sparks. "Listen here, Draco, I don't care what you say, don't you see that it's obvious? You haven't made fun of him or any other Gryffindors, or any other students for that matter, all year. You've changed. Maybe I'm the only one who can see it, but you have and not for the better."  
  
Draco glared and his lips thinned angrily.  
  
"Now listen, this is how it's going to work. You will not see Potter again, except in class and at meals. You will have no contact with him, no talking, letter sending, and absolutely no alone time. You can't even tease him. He doesn't exist anymore for you."  
  
"You can't order me-"  
  
"Oh, can't I?" she asked, her voice rising maniacally. "Maybe I'll just write to your father and praise him for his brilliant plan on getting Potter and what a good job you're doing on it. How you're even sleeping with him...."  
  
"Alright, alright," Draco replied quickly, his face paling.  
  
"Do you swear?" she demanded.  
  
"Don't you think people will wonder why I'm suddenly not being nice to him?"  
  
"Tell them the plan has changed, tell them whatever you want. Just so long as you keep up your separation from Potter."  
  
"Fine."  
  
"Do you swear?" she repeated. "Before you answer, know that I will be informing the entire school body of this little discovery. Soon they will all know that we found you in bed with Potter."  
  
"What!" Draco exclaimed. "Why?"  
  
"Because then everywhere you go people will be watching you. Seeing if you're sneaking off to meet Potter, even watching to see if you so much as glance at him. I'm afraid you're trapped my dear, Draco. Now do you swear?"  
  
"Yes, I swear," he answered, defeated. "Just don't tell my father."  
  
Pansy smiled gaily, her anger evaporating instantly. "I promise he won't find out, now that's a good boy," she patted him on the shoulder and walked off.  
  
Draco turned and ran into his room, locking the door behind him and throwing himself onto his bed.  
  
"Oh, Harry," he choked out into his blankets as he twisted them in his hands. "Please forgive me."  
  
  


                        *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *  


        Harry broke away from Hermione and Ron in the Entrance Hall and walked off to the owlery alone. He needed to meet Draco later and didn't want to talk to him publicly yet, just in case he was in trouble with his housemates.  
  
He called Hedwig down from her perch and stroked her fondly for a minute as he chewed on the end of his quill. After a moment of deliberation, he wrote:  
  
_ Dear Draco,  
  
Meet me in the garden at __midnight__. Hope your okay.  
  
Love,  
  
Harry  
  
He tied the letter to Hedwig's leg and watched in satisfaction as she soared out of the window. He turned and decided to make his way to the Great Hall, as it was time for dinner. As he made his way through the corridors he felt as if everyone was staring at him. He shook his head and blamed his over-active imagination mixed with the strangeness of the day he was having.  
  
He entered the Hall and instantly knew that he was not imagining things. The tables fell silent upon his entrance then immediately broke out into a storm of whispers. The eyes of the entire room followed him to his seat. He wished Hermione and Ron were there.  
  
Harry looked up and tried to find Draco amongst the Slytherin students but couldn't see him anywhere. Ethan caught Harry's eye and gave a friendly smile as usual.  
  
Harry sighed and smiled back. "Well, it can't be anything too bad if Ethan is still smiling at me," he thought in relief.  
  
Just then, Ron and Hermione entered and quickly rushed over to Harry. They sat themselves on either side of him and glared at the other Gryffindors around them as if in warning.  
  
"What is going on?" Harry whispered into Hermione's ear.  
  
"They know, Harry."  
  
"They.....know?" he asked, realization dawning on him. "Everyone?"  
  
Hermione nodded.  
  
"How?" he asked worriedly, hoping Draco was okay.  
  
"I don't know, but it spread so fast....."  
  
"Oh God...." Harry put his head into his hands and closed his eyes.  
  
"There's Malfoy," Ron whispered into Harry's ear.  
  
Harry snapped his head up and looked over. Draco held his head high as he walked to his seat in a very dignified manner, Pansy right behind him. Harry tried to catch Draco's eye but the blonde didn't once look Harry's way.  
  
Hermione glanced at Harry worriedly.  
  
"It's okay," he assured her. "Draco's just putting on an act. He's meeting me later and we'll talk then."  
  
Hermione smiled and patted his arm. "Good."  
  
The students spent the entire dinner glancing between Harry and Draco, waiting for some kind of reaction, some kind of sign that it was true. But they were invariably disappointed as neither boy even raised their eyes from their own plate for the duration of the meal.  
  
Ron and Hermione quickly surrounded Harry as they made their way back to Gryffindor tower after dinner, shielding him from any nosy students. They collapsed in front of the common room fire and talked quietly amongst themselves, glaring at anyone who approached.  
  
"I don't know what to do," Harry began quietly. "Should I tell anyone about it? It looks like Draco wants to still keep it a secret."  
  
"Don't confirm or deny anything until you speak with Malfoy," Hermione suggested.  
  
"I agree," Ron nodded. "Don't do anything until you know for sure. We'll keep everyone away until then."  
  
"Thanks," Harry smiled gratefully. "Hey, how did you know we were in the Shrieking-"  
  
The sudden appearance of Hedwig interrupted their conversation as she sailed down to drop a letter in Harry's lap. Harry snatched it up, afraid that someone might take it from him. Hedwig gave a soft hoot then took off again out the open window.  
  
"I think I'll read this upstairs," Harry said as he got to his feet.  
  
"Good idea," Hermione said.  
  
"Go on, we'll keep the others away until your done," Ron promised.  
  
Harry smiled then ran off, taking the stairs two at a time as he rushed to the sanctity of his dorm room. He settled down on the window seat and ripped open the white envelope. A small piece of parchment fluttered out onto his lap. He snatched it up and opened it hurriedly. His eyes traced over the two words over and over, not believing what he was seeing.  
  
__~ It's over ~___


	8. A Shoulder To Cry On

        Harry blinked and felt his hands go clammy as he stared down at the small piece of parchment. "This can't be what it looks like," he thought to himself. "Draco would never do this to me...."  
  
Harry lowered his shaking hands and looked at the window beside him. He stared hard into his reflection in the pane of glass, his eyes searching for some kind of reassurance from his counterpart that this was all just a big mistake. Maybe it wasn't from Draco at all, maybe it was just some joke from one of the other Slytherins.  
  
"Harry?"  
  
Harry turned and saw Ron cautiously poking his head through the doorway.  
  
"You alright, mate?"  
  
"I'm fine," Harry shrugged.  
  
"You look a little shaken," Ron said, taking another step inside the room. "Was it from, Malfoy?"  
  
"I'm not sure," Harry said, looking back down at the innocent scrap of paper clutched in his fist.  
  
Ron walked inside and closed the door behind him before joining Harry at the window. "What does it say?" he asked curiously.  
  
Harry handed over the parchment and looked back outside as Ron glanced at it and furrowed his brow.  
  
"You're not sure it's from him?" he asked. "Is it his writing?"  
  
"Yes, but it could be some joke one of the other Slytherins decided to pull. Draco wouldn't do this to me."  
  
Ron narrowed his eyes but remained quiet.  
  
Harry turned back towards his best friend and smiled slightly as he reached for the paper again. "I'll just ask him about it tonight when I meet him."  
  
"You're meeting him tonight?" Ron asked in surprise.  
  
"Yes, at midnight. I sent him a note."  
  
"Before or after you got this one?" Ron questioned.  
  
"Before, but that doesn't mean-"  
  
"That's exactly what it means," Ron interjected. "Harry, this letter is from Malfoy and it's just the kind of thing he would do."  
  
"That's not true!" Harry exclaimed defensively. "You don't know what he's like now, he's changed. I don't care if you hate him, Ron, I'm still going to see him and you can't stop me."  
  
"Yes, but _he can," Ron countered. "Wise up, Harry, he just dumped you."  
  
Harry's eyes blazed with anger. "I can't wait to hear your apology later when I come back and prove you wrong."  
  
Harry pushed away from his seat and strode to the door, shoving the paper into his cloak pocket.  
  
"Harry, wait!" Ron called.  
  
Harry flung open the door and slammed it shut behind him without a word. Ron sighed and felt a wave of sympathy and then anger wash over him. He knew the note had to have been from, Malfoy. Poor Harry, he didn't need to deal with this on top of losing his godfather too.  
  
Ron quickly walked to Harry's trunk and rummaged around for the invisibility cloak. He found it crammed in the corner and grabbed it, then threw it around his shoulders as he ran after Harry.  
  
_

                        *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *  
  
  
Harry walked past Hermione and out the portrait hole without a word as she stood up, opening her mouth to call after him. She frowned and wondered what could've happened in so short a time.  
  
"Hermione."  
  
Hermione jumped as a voice suddenly whispered right next to her ear. "Ron," she hissed angrily. "What are you doing? And what is going on?"  
  
"I think Draco just dumped Harry, and he's in some serious denial. Please open the door for me, I need to follow him and make sure he's okay."  
  
Hermione nodded to show she understood and casually walked over to the door. She opened it and stepped outside, allowing enough time for Ron to make it through before turning back in.  
  
The Pink Lady grumbled in annoyance as Ron sprinted down the corridor after Harry.  
  


                        *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *  
  


       Harry entered the garden and sat down on the stone bench that he and Draco had occupied the last time they'd been there. He pushed aside any troubling thoughts and felt sure that this was all just some big misunderstanding, Draco had said that he would never leave him, no matter what. It really wasn't so bad, Draco would just have to face up to his father and tell him the truth. Then they could be happy, and be together in public.  
  
Harry snapped his head around with a smile as he heard someone coming. But the path was empty and the sound died away as quickly as it had come.  
  
"Draco?" Harry called. "You'd better not be playing around again, we really need to talk."  
  
Harry waited for a response. The silence was even more evident after his voice had been swallowed up by the night. He sighed and turned back around to glance at his watch; it was still early.  
  
"Oh, shit!" Harry gasped and leapt to his feet. "I have detention with Snape!"  
  
He frowned and turned around again as he heard something loud in the bushes nearby. He stepped into the garden and felt around with his hands in the dark, he touched something solid but couldn't see anything there.  
  
"Who's there?" he demanded.  
  
Ron pulled back the hood of the invisibility cloak and looked up at Harry sheepishly. "Sorry, Harry. I just wanted to make sure you were okay."  
  
"You mean you just wanted to prove me wrong," Harry accused.  
  
"No," Ron said as he struggled to his feet. "Honestly, I want Malfoy to show up and for you to be happy with him....if that's what you want."  
  
"You just don't believe that he will," Harry concluded.  
  
"To be fair, I haven't seen the good side of Malfoy yet," Ron pointed out.  
  
"Then believe me," Harry pleaded. "Be a friend."  
  
"I am being your friend, Harry. I'm just worried."  
  
"Would you do something for me?" Harry asked.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Could you stay here and wait for Draco for me?"  
  
"Do I have to talk to him?" Ron asked, cringing.  
  
"No," Harry sighed. "Just wait and see if he shows up, then go back to the tower and tell me if he does."  
  
"Okay, what time is he supposed to come?"  
  
"Midnight."  
  
"Midnight!" Ron exclaimed. "It's not even ten!"  
  
"Please, Ron? You said you were my friend."  
  
Ron rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Fine, but you can't use that excuse again."  
  
"Thanks," Harry smiled and helped him out of the bushes.  
  
Ron brushed off the dirt and branches clinging to the cloak as he watched Harry run off up the pathway. He sat down on the bench and prepared himself for a long period of being utterly bored out of his mind.  
  


                        *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *  
  
Harry bid Professor Snape goodnight and rushed off to his dormitory, thankful that Snape hadn't been too hard on him for being late and he didn't have to add any more detentions to his slowly dwindling total; there was only one week left.  
  
He hurriedly gave the password and slipped inside. It was already almost twelve-thirty and all of the other students had gone off to bed. Hermione was still awake and sitting on the floor by the fire with her homework.  
  
"Harry," she greeted in relief. "Where's Ron?"  
  
"He's still outside waiting for Malfoy," Harry explained as he plopped down onto the old, red couch.  
  
"What?" Hermione asked in confusion.  
  
"Long story," Harry shrugged.  
  
Hermione frowned and decided to let it go as she turned back to her homework. Harry settled back into the soft cushions and waited for Ron's return.  
  


_~ One hour later....._  
  


       Ron pushed open the portrait hole with a heavy heart, and walked into the common room. He spotted Harry sitting on the couch dozing and Hermione with her head lying on her books fast asleep.  
  
Harry stirred, as Ron gently touched him on the shoulder. "Ron," he said sleepily. "Did you see, Draco?"  
  
Ron shook his head sadly.  
  
Harry frowned and bit his lip.  
  
"Harry, listen-"  
  
"No, it's okay. He probably just couldn't get away tonight. I'm sure his housemates are keeping an eye on him after all that's happened today."  
  
Ron looked at him incredulously. "Harry, stop making excuses for that bastard."  
  
"Ron, I'm warning you," Harry said, as he sat up. "Don't talk about him that way."  
  
"When are you going to wake up and see that he's left you, Harry?"  
  
"What are you guys yelling about?" Hermione asked with sleepy concern as she lifted her head from the table.  
  
Harry glared at Ron. "I'm going to bed."  
  
Harry got up and left the other two alone. Once he had reached the quiet of his dorm room, he put on his pyjamas and climbed wearily into bed; it had been a long day and he was starting to feel exhausted. He leaned over to place his glasses on the nightstand, then laid back and shut his eyes.  
  
Not long after, Ron came in and climbed into his own bed, after replacing Harry's invisibility cloak back in his trunk.  
  
"Next time, ask," Harry said, from behind closed bed hangings.  
  
"So, what are you going to do about, Malfoy?" Ron asked, looking up at the ceiling over his bed.  
  
"I'll talk to him tomorrow, before breakfast."  
  
Ron sighed and shook his head. Tomorrow was going to be a rough day for everyone.  
  


                        *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *                        
  


        Harry stood nonchalantly in the Entrance Hall, leaning against one of the statues under the stairs and keeping his eyes peeled for Draco. He had left his room this morning as quickly as possible, an icy silence hanging between himself and Ron.  
  
He ignored the other student's stares and whispers as he stood waiting, even glaring at a few of them who looked like they were going to ask him questions.  
  
Suddenly, the dungeon doors swung open and Draco walked out leading a pack of his housemates; which included Pansy, Blaise, Crabbe and Goyle.  
  
Harry tried to catch Draco's attention as he walked by.  
  
"I believe Potter is trying to signal you, Draco," Pansy sneered. She grabbed a hold of Draco's sleeve and pulled him to a stop in front of Harry. "Do you have anything to say to him?"  
  
Draco refused to look into Harry's eyes, and instead opted to sigh in annoyance and look at Pansy. "No, I'm done with that little whore."  
  
Harry gasped and felt as though he'd been hit in the stomach.   


        Pansy smirked in triumph and began to lead the others on towards the Great Hall for their Sunday breakfast. Draco kept his eyes focused on the floor as he followed along behind, he couldn't look at Harry. His heart physically hurt as he tried to block out the words that he had just uttered to bring Harry's world crashing down.  
  
Tears blurred Harry's eyes as he watched Draco walk away. He felt like collapsing onto the floor and staying there forever. He needed to get out before he embarrassed himself further.  
  
He dashed blindly towards the doors and burst outside into the grounds, a heavy rain pouring down on his head as he ran and ran, until collapsing onto the wet grass beside the lake.  
  
He buried his face into his arms and cried, the sobs wracking his small frame as he poured out all the hurt and betrayal he felt. He couldn't believe it. How could Draco do this if he loved him? Had it all been just a game to him? But it had felt so real....  
  
Harry squeezed his eyes shut as he blamed himself for being so gullible. He ran his hands through his now wet hair and let a fresh wave of tears roll down his cheeks, mingling with the tiny rivulets of rain.  
  
A gentle hand pressed on his shoulder.  
  
Harry opened his eyes and looked up, praying that it would be Draco.  
  
"Ethan," Harry said in surprise. "What are you doing out here?"  
  
"I thought you could use some company," Ethan smiled sympathetically. "I'll leave if you want. I just thought you could use a shoulder to cry on, or someone to yell at if you need that, too."  
  
Harry smiled through his tears. "Thanks."  
  
Ethan sat down beside him and took out his wand, he cast a warming spell around them and a water repellent shield to protect them from the rain.  
  
"I can't believe he said that to you," Ethan said quietly.  
  
"I don't understand," Harry sniffed. "He....we.....I thought he'd changed."  
  
"Did he mislead you?" Ethan asked in concern.  
  
"I guess." Harry looked at Ethan, wondering how much he could tell him. It felt good to be talking about it after keeping it bottled up for so long. "He told me that he loved me."  
  
"Oh, Harry," Ethan shook his head and put a comforting arm around Harry's shoulder.  
  
"Know what the worst part is?" Harry said, his voice shaking.  
  
"What?" Ethan pushed Harry's wet fringe off of his forehead.  
  
"I still love him."  
  
"That's perfectly understandable," Ethan reasoned. "He was your first love, right?"  
  
Harry nodded and wiped his eyes.  
  
"Don't worry, Harry. It'll be hard, but you'll get over him and learn to love another."  
  
"I don't know...."  
  
"You will, you're strong and you still have your friends. They understand you, don't they?"  
  
"Ron and Hermione?" Harry asked, looking up at Ethan's face.  
  
"They're your best friends aren't they?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"They're always supportive, right?" Ethan smiled.  
  
"Kind of...." Harry said slowly, thinking of Ron's angry tone yesterday.  
  
"Did they talk to you about your relationship with, Draco? Or your feelings about him?"  
  
"Not really, they didn't want to hear about it."  
  
"I can't believe that," Ethan said in shock. "Just when you need them most, I bet you're always there for them."  
  
"I am," Harry said, sitting up. "You should've seen Ron last night, he didn't believe me at all."  
  
"Harry, listen to me," Ethan spoke sincerely. "You must know that I like you, but never mind that right now, I want you to know that if you need a friend, I'll be here for you. You can talk to me about anything you want. I understand what you're going through, in fact, I've been through it myself."  
  
"You?" Harry asked incredulously.  
  
"Yeah," Ethan smiled sheepishly. "I've been on the dumped side of what I thought was the perfect relationship, too. I loved him and he didn't love me enough."  
  
"So, you do understand," Harry said, feeling less alone in  his misery.  
  
Ethan nodded and took his arm off of Harry's shoulders. "So if you need someone to talk to...."  
  
"Thanks." Harry smiled, glad to have someone who understood. "You're probably the only person in the school talking to me right now, anyway."  
  
Ethan smiled. "Do you want me to bring some breakfast out here for you? We could have a very informal picnic."  
  
"Sure," Harry said uncertainly. "Er, Ethan?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"You know I'm not ready for a relationship right now, right?"  
  
"Of course, Harry. Don't worry about it, we're strictly friends. I wouldn't dream of dating someone when they haven't healed from their last break-up."  
  
"Just so you know," Harry smiled in apology.  
  
"Be right back." Ethan grinned and ran out from under their cover and towards the school, he pushed open the Entrance doors and walked into the Great Hall.   


         He smirked as he saw Draco poking miserably at his breakfast. He couldn't believe how easy it had been to break them up, almost too easy. He couldn't wait until he had Harry all to himself, to do with as he pleased. It wouldn't take long to break him, just a few more pieces of his plan had to fit into place before Harry would crumble and fall straight into his waiting arms.


	9. The Vision

            The following week passed by in a blur for Harry. He threw himself into all of his activities with a feverish intensity; his homework, quidditch practice, studying, until he was able to fall into bed each night filled with exhaustion and fall instantly to sleep. He refused to allow his mind to become idle, he needed to keep busy every waking moment. He was even glad of his detentions with Snape, as they kept him occupied until very late at night. He spent little time with Ron and Hermione after his long talk with Ethan. Ethan had made him realize that his two friends didn't really understand him that much, and never had. During the time he did spend with them he found himself watching them from an outsider's perspective, they seemed so content to just let life pass them by without dwelling on the future or the dangers of today. They didn't seem as weighed down with troubles and as life weary as he was, he suddenly felt years older and unable to relate to them anymore.  
  
He spent a few afternoons with Ethan, just talking about how alienated he felt now among his friends and about other every day things. He didn't want to talk about Draco and Ethan respected that by not asking annoyingly sympathetic questions about his feelings, like the ones Hermione kept pestering him with. She took on the wounded puppy look and tilted her head to the side whenever she tried to get him to discuss Draco. Even Ron was acting strange, he wasn't asking bothersome questions and he acted like he was afraid that Harry was going to burst into tears at any moment.  


      Harry's plan of over-working himself to keep his mind occupied worked perfectly until Saturday morning. He had just served his last detention the night before, he had no quidditch practice today, and worst of all no classes to attend. He had the whole day spread out before him with nothing to keep him busy. His thoughts immediately turned to Draco as he lay in bed staring up at the ceiling. The worst part was that this was their usual day to meet each other in the Shrieking Shack.  
  
Harry squeezed his eyes closed and tried to prevent the painful memories from flooding his mind. He put a hand to his mouth to keep the threatening sobs from escaping. Quick glimpses of his time spent with Draco played cruelly in his head; sleeping in each other's arms, laughing and joking together, carefree, happy.....loved.  
  
Harry threw back his bed hangings and bolted from the room, only sparing enough time to grab his glasses and invisibility cloak on the way.  
  
He pushed past the portrait and sprinted away from Gryffindor tower as fast as he could, tears beginning to blind his vision. The wall paintings turned into blurs of colour as he raced by, intent on reaching the Entrance doors as quickly as possible. The hall was devoid of any other students or faculty as he pushed the heavy doors and sprang outside. He only stopped when he had reached the seclusion and safety of his favourite spot by the lake.  
  
He threw himself down onto the damp grass and allowed the pent-up sobs to break free. It was the first time since his horrible encounter with Draco, that he had allowed himself to let out the hurt and betrayal he had felt when Draco had been so callous towards him. There had been no hint of love or regret at all in those steel eyes, only a cool distance that bore no trace of recognition at all.  
  
Harry squeezed his fists around the dew covered grass stalks and let his nails dig into his palms. He wanted to block out Draco Malfoy from his mind completely – forever, even if it meant replacing pain with pain.  
  
Harry opened his eyes and looked down at his hands, little half crescent indents dotted his reddened palms. He found satisfaction at the sight of those testaments of physical pain. This was real. This he could control.  
  
The only thing he could control in his life was the pain inflicted on himself by his own hands. Pain replacing pain. Mental pain overridden by physical pain.  
  
Harry sat up tiredly and let his cloak drop off of his shoulders. What he really wanted to do was let out all the poisonous emotions inside of him by talking to someone he could trust, someone who wouldn't judge or interrupt with clichéd advice. Someone like Ethan.  
  
He pushed himself off the ground and slung the cloak over one arm as he looked up at the school. Silhouettes were beginning to move past the windows as the rest of the school slowly woke up and headed down for breakfast.  
  
Harry trudged back to the entrance and walked inside. He peeked into the Great Hall and saw that Ethan hadn't arrived yet. He decided to just wait for him at the door, not in the mood for any early morning conversations with his own house-mates.  
  
"Looking for someone?"  
  
Harry turned at the tap on his shoulder and smiled when he saw Ethan standing behind him.  
  
"Yes, you actually," Harry replied.  
  
"What did you want to see me for?" Ethan inquired, quickly glancing at the door to the dungeons.  
  
"Could I talk to you?"  
  
"Of course." Ethan smiled warmly. "I assume you want to talk somewhere private?"  
  
"If you don't mind." Harry smiled apologetically. "I understand if you want to eat breakfast first..."  
  
"No, I should be eating less anyway," Ethan said.  
  
"You?" Harry grinned. "You're already in perfect shape.....I mean...."  
  
He blushed in embarrassment.  
  
"It's okay." Ethan winked. "I just want to be in tip-top shape when I start quidditch practice."  
  
"Quidditch practice?" Harry frowned in confusion.  
  
"Didn't you hear? Draco's dropped out."  
  
Harry felt as though he'd been physically slapped in the face. "What?"  
  
Ethan looked at him in concern. "Listen, why don't we go somewhere for that talk and I'll fill you in."  
  
Harry nodded numbly and followed as Ethan led the way to his dorm room. He was in such a state of shock that he didn't even see Draco as he passed by in the opposite direction with Pansy.  
  
"What's with, Potter?" Pansy wondered as she looked over her shoulder. "He looks like the walking dead."  
  
Draco frowned and felt jealousy flow through his veins as he turned to see Ethan leading Harry down into the Slytherin dorms. He knew he had no right to feel this way, he had dumped Harry and treated him horrendously so he had no say as to who he saw or what he did. But it irked him none-the-less that Harry trusted this complete stranger. There was still something about the new Slytherin that made Draco uneasy, he just couldn't pinpoint what it was.....  
  
He envied Ethan's freedom to do whatever he pleased, even if it meant publicly seeing Harry Potter to his heart's content. He obviously didn't have a maniacal father to deal with at home or a strict family protocol to follow.  
  
Draco sat down to breakfast and suddenly didn't feel the slightest bit hungry anymore. He pushed his plate away angrily and sat in stony silence.  
  
"Hey, Draco!" a seventh year boy named Dominic called out.  
  
"What?" Draco answered irritably.  
  
"I heard you quit the team?"  
  
"Yeah, that's right. What about it?" Draco ground out with hostility.  
  
"I was just wondering why," Dominic pressed.  
  
"I have more important things to think about than silly games. My father agrees that I should focus on studying and furthering my education rather than wasting my time in quidditch."  
  
"But-"  
  
"No, no buts." Draco glared threateningly. "I quit, end of discussion."  
  
Dominic returned the glare, but decided to leave it alone.  
  
"Nice work, baby-cakes," Pansy whispered into his ear when everyone had turned away.  
  
Draco just nodded silently.  
  
"I'm sorry I made you leave the team, but I can't have you in such close proximity to Potter now can I?" Pansy smiled sweetly. "It could lead to all sorts of problems and feelings, and you really don't want your father to hear about things like that, do you?"  
  
Draco clenched his jaw and made no reply.  
  
  


                        *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *  
  


         Harry sat down on Ethan's chair and stared unseeing into the fire. He was glad that the seventh years got their own private rooms so he could be sure that they wouldn't be interrupted.  
  
"So, what was it you wanted to talk about?" Ethan asked gently, seating himself on the floor in front of the fire.  
  
Harry snapped out of his daze and looked at Ethan, hurt reflected in his emerald eyes. "Why would he leave the quidditch team?"  
  
"I don't know, Harry," Ethan replied with a shake of his head. "All I know is that he decided to resign and the captain offered me the job of replacing him as seeker."  
  
"It's as if he doesn't even want to acknowledge my existence anymore," Harry muttered sadly, his eyes brimming with unshed tears.  
  
"Isn't it easier for you this way?" Ethan asked quietly.  
  
"I don't know....maybe."  
  
"Even if it hurts to know that he's avoiding you, don't you think that it'll help you move on?"  
  
"But it hurts," Harry sobbed. "It's so final. I think some part of me still hoped that he would come back to me, that he'd overcome whatever it is he's fighting against and we could be together....like we were before."  
  
Ethan stood and gathered Harry into his arms. "Shhh....its okay, Harry."  
  
Harry cried into Ethan's chest as he smoothed his hair and gently rocked him.  
  
After a few minutes, Harry hiccoughed and pulled back with an apologetic smile. "Sorry about that," he said, looking at the wet spot on Ethan's shirt.  
  
"Don't worry about it, Harry," Ethan assured him. "This is what you need to do, isn't it? Let out everything you're feeling and just free yourself from the past. I'm happy to help you any way I can."  
  
"Thanks," Harry smiled, wiping his nose on his sleeve.  
  
Ethan let go of him with a grin and went to fetch some Kleenex from his bathroom. Harry sat back down in the chair and let out a breath of air. He actually did feel a little better now.  
  
"Here you go." Ethan reappeared and handed Harry a tissue.  
  
"Thanks."  
  
"Listen, Harry," Ethan started hesitantly. "I hate to do this to you, but I was kind of planning on going to Hogsmeade today...."  
  
"Oh, sorry." Harry jumped up and hastily retreated towards the door. "Go ahead, I didn't mean to keep you."  
  
"Are you sure?" Ethan asked worriedly. "I could stay? Or you could come too?"  
  
"No, it's fine," Harry assured him. "I'm fine. Go on."  
  
"Alright, if you're sure."  
  
"Yes, positive." Harry nodded.  
  
"You're welcome to stay here if you want some time alone, anytime, not just today," Ethan offered.  
  
"Thanks," Harry accepted gratefully. "I'll definitely take you up on that some time. I think I'd better go back to my room now, my friends might worry."  
  
Ethan narrowed his eyes as he turned to open the door, shielding his annoyed expression from Harry.  
  
Harry followed Ethan to the Entrance Hall and bid him goodbye at the door, then turned and slowly made his way back to Gryffindor tower. He spotted Ron and Hermione playing exploding snap by the window and tried to slip by them to his room unnoticed.  
  
No such luck.  
  
"Harry, there you are!" Ron called. "Come over, you can play the winner."  
  
"Uh, no thanks," Harry declined. "I think I'm just going to go lie down for a bit."  
  
"But you just got up," Hermione frowned.  
  
"Yeah, but I'm tired," Harry explained, edging his way towards the stairs.  
  
Hermione glanced at Ron with a look that clearly said to not let Harry go.  
  
"Er, Harry?" Ron said standing up. "Do you want to.....talk or something?"  
  
"No, that's okay," Harry smiled. "I'll just see you later."  
  
Without waiting for a reply, Harry bolted from the room.  
  
Hermione sighed and turned towards Ron with a frustrated frown. "I just don't know how to talk to him anymore," she said in exasperation.  
  
"I know," Ron said, sitting back down. "I'm afraid that if we push him too much he'll just get angry, and if we don't try at all then we'll just be letting him get worse and worse."  
  
"If he doesn't want to talk about it then we should just wait until he makes the first move, but keep an eye on him in the mean time."  
  
"Agreed." Ron nodded.  
  


                        *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *  
  


        Harry fell into his bed and promptly fell asleep. He dreamed vividly about Draco and Ethan, the two blending together and changing shape, but it soon turned into a nightmare.  
  
Voldemort was laughing, he was very pleased about something.....  
  
Harry began to toss and turn in bed as his scar began its usual prickling, eventually turning into full-blown searing pain.  
  
Something was wrong. He could almost see it.....a dead body and a lone Death Eater. Voldemort was definitely pleased about it.  
  
Too much pain.  
  
Harry woke with a scream and fell to the floor as he retched, sweat dripping down his pale face and his eyes wide with terror. He knew what he had seen was a vision, not just a bad dream. He'd been so preoccupied with trying to get over Draco that he'd completely forgotten about his Occlumency training, he also knew that whatever it was he had seen had already happened and there was nothing he could do to reverse it.  
  
He picked himself up off the floor and used his wand to clean up the mess he'd made.  
  
"I have to tell Dumbledore," he thought to himself.  
  
He glanced at his bedside clock and saw that he'd been asleep for a long while - it was almost dinner time. He wiped his face on his sleeve and left the room, creeping down the stairs carefully to see who was in the common room.  
  
It was practically empty, except for Ron and Hermione. Harry sighed and stepped off the last stair, bracing himself for the onslaught of worried questions and concerned looks.  
  
Strangely, they did little more than give him a friendly wave before going back to their homework. Harry smiled slightly and paused, maybe he should tell them about the vision.....  
  
No, he didn't want to worry them. He was sure their life was a lot simpler and a lot more peaceful when he wasn't burdening them with all of his problems, so he returned the wave and headed off to see Professor Dumbledore.  
  
When he reached the stone gargoyles protecting the headmaster's office he realized that he hadn't been there in quite some time and didn't know the new password. He paused outside and chewed on his bottom lip.  
  
"Lemon drops?" he tried. "Chocolate frogs? Fizzing Whizz-bees?"  
  
The gargoyle seemed to glare at Harry in annoyance from his perch on the wall.  
  
"Mr Potter."  
  
Harry turned and saw Professor McGonagall heading towards him. "I need to see-"  
  
"The headmaster needs to see you right away," she interrupted.  
  
"He already knows?" Harry asked.  
  
She gave him a strange look and frowned. "How do you know...."  
  
"I had a dream," he explained.  
  
"Are you alright? You seem to be taking it awfully calmly."  
  
"What do you mean? All I know is that someone is dead," Harry said, a panicked fear starting to build in his chest.  
  
"I think you should talk to the headmaster." McGonagall placed a hand on his shoulder and gave the password. "Candy cane."  
  
She led Harry up the steps and the two emerged into Dumbledore's office. There were three Aurors gathered around Dumbledore's desk and few members of the Order, including Snape.  
  
They all turned to stare at Harry as he entered.  
  
"Ah, you found him," Dumbledore said to Professor McGonagall.  
  
"He was already here waiting to speak with you, Albus," she replied. "He had a vision, but he doesn't know....."  
  
Harry's heart dropped when he saw the look of pity that crossed Dumbledore's face. The headmaster looked tired and....could he have been crying?  
  
"That will be all," the headmaster announced to the group. "I need to speak with Harry alone."  
  
They all trooped out, including McGonagall and Snape - not one of them meeting Harry's worried eyes.  
  
"Have a seat," Dumbledore invited.  
  
Harry perched nervously on the edge of the chair opposite Dumbledore's desk. The headmaster stood looking out the window, obviously contemplating something. Harry tried to fight down the rising panic, it was probably nothing.....  
  
Albus finally turned and headed for his desk, then thought better of it and decided to sit in the chair next to Harry.  
  
"Harry, what did you see in your vision?" he asked.  
  
"I saw one Death Eater and Voldemort, and a....dead body. Voldemort was really happy about something."  
  
"Did you recognize the Death Eater?"  
  
"No, he was masked."  
  
"Did you recognize where they were?" he pressed.  
  
"No....I don't think so. It looked like they were outside though, maybe in a forest or something," Harry said, thinking hard.  
  
Dumbledore sighed and shook his head.  
  
"You know who was killed, don't you?" Harry finally asked.  
  
"Yes I do."  
  
"Please, tell me," Harry pleaded quietly.  
  
"I'm so sorry, Harry," Dumbledore spoke sadly. "I hate to be the one to always bring you bad news. You don't deserve this...."  
  
"Who?" Harry whispered fearfully.  
  
"It was Remus Lupin."


	10. There's No Easy Way to Say Goodbye

          Harry sat staring at Dumbledore, frozen in disbelief. There was a strange buzzing in his ears that seemed to be getting louder and louder. He shook his head and his lips formed the word 'no' but the sound seemed died in his throat. The silence was stretching and he felt the weight of the room pressing down onto him.  
  
"I'm so sorry, Harry" Dumbledore said, placing a gentle hand on Harry's arm.  
  
Harry looked down and noticed dully that his arm was shaking under the headmaster's touch. His eyes glazed over as he thought of the last time he had seen Lupin; strolling down the long Hogwarts drive after a summertime visit, throwing a friendly wave over his shoulder at Harry standing at the front doors.  
  
"I'll never see him again" Harry realized, the brutal shock of reality beginning to set in.  
  
"Oh, God" Harry sobbed, closing his eyes. His hands began to shake and he felt sick.  
  
"It's going to be okay" Dumbledore said gently, trying to reassure the distraught boy.  
  
"No!" Harry jumped out of the chair and began to pace wildly. "He's not dead....he's not dead....he can't be....."  
  
Dumbledore felt his eyes sting with tears as he watched Harry shake his head in denial. "Harry-"  
  
"No!" Harry half shouted, half sobbed, as he turned to face the headmaster. "You don't understand. He's all I had left, he was my only source of strength after Sirius died. We helped each other go on. I can't do this without him! There's no one to help me get past Remus' death because they've all already died, the last of the true Marauders.....Sirius, my dad...."  
  
Dumbledore stood in alarm as Harry became more and more hysterical.  
  
"I have no one now. They've all left me, just like everyone does. I just want one year where no one I love dies, is that too much to ask?"  
  
Harry fell to his knees as Dumbledore quickly crouched beside him.  
  
"Harry, you will get over this. You have to be strong. I know it's unfair and it seems like the world is against you, but you must go on. Harry, please calm down" he pleaded.  
  
Harry continued to sob as he curled into himself on the floor, ignoring the headmaster's kind words.  
  
Dumbledore went to his door and opened it, calling out orders to whoever was standing outside.  
  
Harry pressed his nails into his palms again but it wasn't enough to replace the pain clutching his heart. His wails became louder as realization overwhelmed him; knowing that he had no one to turn to anymore and the only contacts he had had with his parent's lives were now gone. He felt more alone then he had ever felt in his young life.  
  
He became dimly aware that Dumbledore was talking to someone just inside the door.  
  
He didn't care. He just wanted to go to sleep and never wake up, then he wouldn't have to feel anymore. He wanted to be with Remus and Sirius. They just couldn't abandon him. His body shook as he continued to cry unrestrainedly on the floor.  
  
A strong pair of arms suddenly encircled his shoulders and raised him up, bringing his head to rest against a warm, solid chest. He kept his eyes closed and clutched at the person desperately, simply needing to be held in silence and understanding. He buried his face into the person's robe and after awhile felt his breathing slow down, becoming less erratic, felt the last of his tears falling down his cheeks.  
  
He instantly felt drained and his body sagged weakly as a wave of dizziness washed over him. The arms holding him tightened their grip and kept him from collapsing.  
  
Harry gulped and took a deep breath to ease his nausea. He exhaled shakily and began to feel somewhat in control of his emotions again. He realized in surprise that his scar had begun to burn sometime during his break-down and he now felt the full force of it as his physical awareness returned to him.  
  
He was distracted from the pain by the feel of tears falling softly onto the top of his head.  
  
He blinked his eyes open in surprise and lifted his head away from the comforting embrace to look up.  
  
"Draco?"  
  
Harry couldn't believe it when he saw the familiar grey eyes and pale face, tears trailing silently down the soft skin. He reached out and caught one of the pearly drops on his finger.  
  
"Don't cry, Draco" he whispered, feeling an odd detached sort of compassion.  
  
"Don't be nice to me, Harry" Draco answered sadly. "I don't deserve it."  
  
"Have you changed your mind?" Harry asked hopefully. "About....us?"  
  
Draco shook his head and looked away.  
  
"Then you're right, you don't deserve it" Harry answered coldly, backing away from him.  
  
"Please let me explain" Draco pleaded.  
  
"No, I heard you the first time; you're done with this little whore."  
  
"Harry, I had to-"  
  
"You didn't have to do anything, Malfoy" Harry spat, the pain in his scar increasing and filling him with unreasonable anger. "It's your own choice what you do with your life, and if you spend it trying to live up to other people's expectations then you will end up with nothing. You will be nothing, just the empty shell of a person who once could actually think for themselves. Why are you even here?"  
  
"Dumbledore sent for me, he doesn't know that we're...."  
  
"Enemies again?" Harry supplied viciously.  
  
Draco sighed. "We're not enemies."  
  
"Could've fooled me. Do you call all your friends whores and publicly disgrace them or is that right reserved especially for me?" Harry asked sarcastically, trying to ignore the throbbing pain on his forehead.  
  
"I'm sorry about that, Harry. I didn't mean it."  
  
"Oh well, that makes it all okay then." Harry sighed tiredly. "I can't trust anything you say anymore. Just leave me alone."  
  
"No, I want you to understand" Draco spoke urgently. "I never lied to you until that day, ever. Harry, you must see that any kind of lasting relationship between us is impossible. We're from two different worlds. I know I said that that would never matter but it does, it's just too hard to overcome. Believe me, it's easier this way."  
  
"You think this is easy?" Harry shouted angrily. "This isn't easy, it's fucking unbearable! Even if the whole world was against us at least we'd still have each other.....now we have nothing. So don't you ever presume to know what's best for me because you don't. And don't feed me that bullshit about it being for the best because you are a fucking coward and you don't have the guts to stand up for what you want."  
  
Rage blazed in Harry's green eyes as he let his anger spill out and lash at Draco's shocked and hurt demeanour.  
  
"Fine, think what you want" Draco said. "But it doesn't mean that I ever intended to hurt you. I really did love you....I still do...."  
  
"How dare you?" Harry breathed out angrily. "How dare you come in here at the worst moment of my life and say something like that? You said we could never be together again and I was just beginning to reconcile myself to that fact, so why are you doing this? Thought you'd kick me while I was down? Give me that final push into complete hell? You're doing a pretty shitty job of not trying to hurt me."  
  
Harry reached up and grabbed the edge of Dumbledore's desk, mustering all of his strength to pull himself to his feet. He could see blackness fogging the edge of his vision as he leaned heavily on the wooden desk, the pain in his scar attempting to pull him into unconsciousness.  
  
Draco stood up worriedly and stepped towards him.  
  
"Stay away from me!" Harry hissed. "Why did you really come here? Why bother?"  
  
"No matter what you believe, Harry, I still do care for you. I can't stand seeing you like this."  
  
"Oh, so it's pity? Well, don't worry, I'll make sure you never see me like this again. From now on I'll try not to subject you to my miserable life. I'll make sure Dumbledore knows that we are no longer friends."  
  
Harry paused as wave of coldness swept through his body and spots of light danced in front of his eyes. But he had one more thing to say.  
  
"I don't love you anymore, Draco."  
  
Draco rushed forward as Harry fell, catching him before he could hit the floor. He called for Dumbledore and hastily wiped away the tears on his cheeks that had begun to fall during Harry's tirade.  
  
Dumbledore burst into the room accompanied by Madam Pomfrey.  
  
"Would you carry him to the infirmary for us, Mr Malfoy?" Madam Pomfrey asked when she saw Harry's unconscious state.  
  
"I can't...." Draco replied, setting Harry's body down and moving away. "I have to go....."  
  
Draco stood and bolted from the room.  
  
Dumbledore shared a surprised look with Madam Pomfrey before they picked Harry up between the two of them and carried him off towards the hospital wing.

                        *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *                                  

            Harry opened his eyes and looked around the familiar white room of the infirmary. The pain in his scar was gone but he felt utterly exhausted.  
  
"Harry?"  
  
Harry turned and smiled weakly at the headmaster.  
  
"Sorry, about before...." he finally said.  
  
"It's fine, dear boy" Dumbledore assured him. "You, more than anyone, deserve to let off a little steam once in awhile. How are you feeling?"  
  
"Tired" Harry admitted.  
  
"It'll pass. Just stay here as long as you need" Dumbledore spoke hesitantly. "I need to ask you something, Harry. Mr Malfoy-"  
  
"Is no longer my friend" Harry interrupted coldly.  
  
Dumbledore gazed at him searchingly but didn't press the subject. "I want you to take the week off from classes. If you want to talk to someone I can arrange a counsellor from St Mungo's to come...."  
  
"That won't be necessary" Harry said in alarm. "I'll be fine."  
  
Dumbledore patted his shoulder comfortingly. "I didn't think you'd agree to that one, but I thought I'd offer. Take all the time you need, Harry. I'll always be willing to talk if you so desire, about anything, not just Remus."  
  
"Thanks" Harry smiled gratefully.  
  
"I shall leave you now" Dumbledore said as he stood. "Are you strong enough to have a visitor?"  
  
"Who?" Harry asked curiously. "Ron and Hermione?"  
  
The headmaster turned and motioned to someone standing in the shadows of the doorway.  
  
"Ethan" Harry smiled in relief. He hadn't felt like talking to Ron and Hermione and being subjected to their pity.  
  
"Hi, Harry" Ethan smiled warmly and walked over to stand beside his bed.  
  
The headmaster's eyes twinkled as he watched the two boys smile at each other in greeting. "Ethan will be good for him" he thought as he left them alone.  
  
"Sit down" Harry motioned towards Dumbledore's vacant chair.  
  
"How are you?" Ethan asked as he settled himself down.  
  
"Fine."  
  
Ethan raised one eyebrow.  
  
"Okay, so I'm not fine" Harry laughed. "But I will be."  
  
"Dumbledore told me all about it. Were you close to him?"  
  
"Yes" Harry nodded sadly. "He was like a father and big brother all rolled into one. He's also the best DADA teacher I ever had....was the best...."  
  
"What was he like?" Ethan asked.  
  
"He was my father's best friend from school, so I always felt like that was something that kind of connected me to my parent's lives. He always told me anything I wanted to know about them. He understood how I felt, being singled out because of something I can't control. I don't know if Dumbledore told you but he was a werewolf."  
  
"He did" Ethan nodded.  
  
"It bothered a lot of people" Harry shrugged. "He was perfectly safe though. Anyway, he was always there for me, helping me after Sirius' death. Do you know-"  
  
"That Sirius Black was your godfather? Yeah."  
  
"You must think my life is very strange, best friends with werewolves and ex-convicts.....well, I guess it is" Harry admitted with a laugh.  
  
"Not strange, but definitely interesting" Ethan agreed.  
  
"That's true, never a dull moment in my life. Are you sure you still want to be my friend?" Harry smirked.  
  
"Of course" Ethan said seriously. "Nothing you say could horrify me enough to want to leave."  
  
"Really? What if I told you that I was a Blast-ended Skrewt in disguise?"  
  
"Well, that might do it" Ethan laughed. "You hide it very well though."  
  
Harry laughed.  
  
"What if I told you I was really a goblin?" Ethan asked with a grin.  
  
"Then I would ask you why goblins never seem to take showers."  
  
The two burst out laughing.  
  
"So when are you getting out of here?" Ethan asked, once he had recovered his breath.  
  
"Anytime I want" Harry grinned. "I think I'll spend the night here and leave tomorrow morning. Dumbledore said I didn't have to go to classes all week."  
  
"Lucky" Ethan said wistfully. "No Professor Snape for a whole week."  
  
"That's what made me accept Dumbledore's offer" Harry winked.  
  
"I guess I'll leave you now and let you get some rest" Ethan smiled.  
  
"Okay, will I see you tomorrow?"  
  
"You can bet on it" Ethan promised as he stood up.  
  
"Bye."  
  
"See ya, Harry" Ethan waved.  
  
Harry watched Ethan leave and felt a little better that he really wasn't completely alone. Ethan wasn't overly sympathetic, he just listened and seemed to understand.  
  
"Harry?" Ethan reappeared in the doorway.  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Ron and Hermione are here, do you want to see them?" he asked.  
  
"Er...."  
  
"You don't have to" Ethan said.  
  
"I don't think I will, could you?...."  
  
"Make up some excuse?" Ethan smiled. "No problem."  
  
Harry smiled and settled back into his pillows, closing his eyes and allowing himself to drift off into a much needed sleep.  
  


                        *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *  
  


            Ethan walked down the dungeon hallway, a pleased smirk on his face. He spoke the password for the Slytherin dorms and entered, looking around the busy room. His eyes came to rest on Pansy Parkinson and he made his way over, double checking that Draco wasn't anywhere nearby.  
  
"Pansy Parkinson, right?" Ethan smiled charmingly.  
  
"Yes, what do you want?" she asked in annoyance as she turned to face him.  
  
"I was just wondering if your boyfriend had returned form Dumbledore's office yet?"  
  
"Draco? He's not my boyfriend. What was he doing in the headmaster's office?" she asked suspiciously.  
  
"He's not your boyfriend? Pity, you two look good together. Anyway, I heard that he and Potter were in there all morning, even when the headmaster left they were still in there...alone."  
  
"Where did you hear this?" Pansy demanded.  
  
"Why don't you just ask him?" Ethan suggested. "Did you see him at all tonight?"  
  
Pansy narrowed her eyes and thought carefully. She hadn't seen Draco much this evening. "I will ask him."  
  
Ethan watched as Pansy flounced angrily from the room and headed for Draco's dorm. He chuckled and went to stand by the fire, holding his hands out and letting the warmth seep into his skin.  
  
"This is just too much fun" he thought. "Poor Potter, he isn't going to take this well. Just when he thought his life couldn't get any worse, and then wham! Malfoy hits him with another dose of pain. I just hope Pansy does what I hope she will, she's a pretty vindictive bitch, so she should. I can't wait to see his reaction tomorrow. I'm really starting to enjoy myself."


	11. Giving In

          Harry walked down the corridor, sandwiched between his two best friends, as they made their way down to the Great Hall for dinner. It was the first time since Remus' death that Harry had decided to join the rest of the school for a meal. He had benefited greatly from the week off of regular classes and had spent the time remembering Professor Lupin and healing from his broken relationship with Draco. 

He now felt reasonably able to rejoin his friends and attend classes, and was sure that he could face Draco without breaking down or feeling hurt and betrayed. He had put it behind him...he hoped.

Harry entered the Great Hall and forced his eyes to stay trained on the Gryffindor table, he didn't want to tempt fate by even glancing over at the Slytherin side. He was disgusted with himself for even wanting to.

"Welcome back, Harry!" Seamus grinned, as Harry sat himself down on the bench. 

Harry returned the friendly smile and folded his hands on the table as he waited for Dumbledore to take his seat and signal for the food to appear. 

He stared hard at his hands and restlessly picked at a hangnail, fervently praying that Dumbledore would hurry up and sit down. He could almost feel the weight of those grey eyes on him from the Slytherin table. 

Draco watched Harry intently as he entered the Hall and sat down with his Gryffindor friends, he saw him keep his eyes on his table alone, not sparing even a glance over at himself or the rest of the Slytherins. He knew he shouldn't feel hurt by it, it was his own fault after all, but he desperately wished that Harry would look over at him like they use to when they exchanged secretive glances all through every meal, stares laced with amusement and happiness, and love. Now he was left with nothing but the cold reality of being purposefully ignored.

Harry breathed a sigh of relief as the food magically appeared in front of him. The mixture of aromas was intoxicating as he took in the sight of all the dishes heaped with loads of delicious looking food. 

"Harry, do you want some mashed potatoes?" Ron asked, picking up the casserole dish and holding it out to him.

"Yes, thanks" Harry smiled, as he grabbed the dish and spooned some of the creamy white potatoes onto his plate.

"Carrots?" Hermione offered on his other side.

Harry nodded and held his plate out as she loaded the brightly coloured carrots onto it.

"Roast chicken?" 

"I _am_ able to get my own food, you know" Harry laughed as Ron started sliding the tender meat onto his rapidly filling plate.

"We just want to help. You've hardly eaten anything this past week and now you need to thoroughly indulge yourself" Hermione smiled.

Harry grinned and bit into the roast chicken hungrily. He really was tired of the small scraps of food that he had scrounged from the kitchens in the past week and was definitely ready to eat these large meals with the rest of his house again. 

He began to feel a sense of normalcy as he listened to the amiable chatter around him, the usual talk about their first quidditch game the next day, how horrible Snape was treating them, and the unfair amount of homework they were expected to get done each week. 

He filled his stomach until it felt ready to burst, then sat back and sighed contentedly.

"Feel better?" Hermione asked, watching his satisfied expression.

"Yes" Harry nodded as he looked at her, knowing full well that she wasn't just talking about the food.

Hermione smiled in relief and gave his arm a squeeze. Ron smiled as he watched Harry return to the way he use to be, like his best friend before all the Malfoy business started. The redhead glanced over at the Slytherin table and frowned when he saw Malfoy sneaking quick glances over at Harry when he thought no one was looking. 

Seamus followed Ron's angry gaze and shook his head in disgust. "I hear Malfoy and that Pansy girl are an item now."

Harry dropped his fork with a loud clatter.

"Seamus!" Hermione hissed angrily. "Have you ever heard of tact?"

"What?" Seamus asked bewildered.

"It's okay" Harry said, picking up his fork and trying to regain his composure. "You don't have to avoid talking about certain subjects around me, I'm really okay with it."

"Sorry, Harry" Seamus apologized, realizing his mistake. "I just forgot."

"I said it's no problem" Harry shrugged. "I'm getting tired so I think I'll just go to bed now. I have to get some sleep before the game tomorrow anyway."

"Harry-"

"Its fine, Hermione, really."

Hermione chewed on her lip worriedly as she watched Harry quickly leave the Hall, again keeping his eyes reverted to the floor.

"Way to go, Seamus" Ron accused sarcastically.

"I forgot" Seamus shrugged in embarrassment.

The rest of the Gryffindors started talking noisily again as Ron shuffled closer to Hermione. "What do you think?" he whispered.

"I think we should just leave him alone, this is something he needs to deal with by himself."

"Are you sure? He just seems so distant lately, I don't want him thinking we're not here to talk to if he wants."

"I know what you mean" Hermione frowned. "He's kept himself so isolated from everyone lately."

"Except for that Ethan guy" Ron pointed out.

"Hmm...."

"What? You think he has something to do with this?"

"I don't think so, at least Harry's talking to someone. I think it's healthy for him to have Ethan as a friend right now, maybe it'll turn into something more."

"Yeah, and he'll be much better for him than that stupid prick Malfoy" Ron said vehemently.

Hermione nodded in agreement. 

                        *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *

            Harry gripped his broom tightly as he surveyed the game around him. They were losing to the Slytherins, twenty to eighty, and Harry was desperately searching for the golden snitch as he flew around the pitch. 

He was eternally grateful that Draco had quit the Slytherin team, as he found it hard enough to concentrate knowing that the blond was sitting in the stands somewhere watching his every move. 

Ethan flew next to him and smiled. "How's it going, Harry?"

"I'd be a lot better if you lot weren't kicking our asses" Harry called back.

"Just let me know if you see the snitch."

Harry laughed.

The two separated and continued to patiently circle the pitch.

Draco kept his eyes glued to Harry as he watched the game. Pansy hung smugly on his arm and kept her gloved hand in his. 

Lucius Malfoy sat behind them and smiled in satisfaction at the sight of his son with Ms Parkinson. He had heard some strange rumours about his son's...preferences and had decided to come watch the game and visit Draco himself. 

Severus Snape sat beside Lucius and frowned as he witnessed Draco's attitude towards Pansy. He knew Draco was living a lie and felt for the boy whose father would never accept him for who he really was. Draco was doomed to live a life according to his father's wishes and there was nothing he could do about it. He was glad that the boy's little infatuation with Potter had ended, it wasn't safe for anybody and would've only ended in disaster. 

Up in the air, Harry was still circling and keeping his eyes peeled for the tiny winged ball. The score was now sixty to eighty.

Then he saw it, that glint of gold that could only mean one thing; the snitch. He lay flat to his broom and flew at breakneck speed towards the other side of the pitch. Ethan wasn't even close and would never make up the distance in time. Harry gritted his teeth and veered downwards as the snitch changed direction and flew towards the grass field below. Like almost every game Harry played in, both teams stopped to watch his amazing flying ability as he concentrated on catching the snitch. 

It looked like the snitch was about to slam into the ground and Harry prepared himself for a sharp swerve upwards at the last second. He reached out and grabbed the tiny fluttering ball tightly, then wrenched his broom handle upwards as hard as he could, the tail end just brushing the grass as he soared back up. 

The stands exploded in cheers and Harry happily hugged the rest of his team as they surrounded him in the air. 

Draco restrained himself from cheering for Harry as he caught the snitch. He was happy that Harry was moving on and returning to the things he loved, even though it hurt to see him letting go. 

"Stupid, Potter" Pansy muttered.

Draco nodded and looked back at his father.

"I'm glad you've decided to concentrate on your studies, Draco" he said with a slight curl to his lip. "This really is a sport for simpletons and mudbloods."

Lucius stood up and wiped the dust from his robe disdainfully. "Come Draco, walk me to the door."

"Yes, sir."

Draco pulled his hand from Pansy's vice-like grip and stood up.

"Goodbye, Ms Parkinson" Mr Malfoy nodded in farewell.

"Goodbye, Mr Malfoy" Pansy answered respectfully. "I'll see you later, Draco."

Draco glared at her behind his father's back as they turned to leave.

"Aren't you going to kiss me goodbye?" she demanded in her screechy spoiled voice.

Draco turned angrily, that was _not_ part of their deal. 

Pansy smirked expectantly as Mr Malfoy turned to wait for his son. 

Draco knew he was trapped. 

He walked forward and wrinkled his nose in disgust as he leaned forward and touched his lips to Pansy's. Pansy crushed her mouth against his and wetly kissed him back, her arms trying to pull him closer. Draco felt like gagging as he felt her lips touch his. It felt so wrong. He had only ever kissed Harry and the difference was amazing; where she was cold and controlling, Harry was gentle and warm. There was absolutely no pleasant melting feeling at all, only utter and complete abhorrence.

Draco pulled his mouth away and narrowed his eyes at Pansy's smug grin. He turned and followed his father as they trailed after everyone else out of the stands. 

Pansy turned and her smugness increased when she spotted Potter on his broom staring in shock. She winked at him and then practically skipped out of the stands.

Harry didn't care that he was being obvious about the hurt Draco had just caused him by kissing Pansy in front of him. He flew towards the ground and ran into the quidditch shed, throwing his broom across the room and letting the snitch fly out of his grasp. His broom hit the wall and fell to the floor with a loud clatter as he kicked the bench in anger and humiliation. 

He threw open the door again and walked back outside. Hermione and Ron were running breathlessly towards him as he crossed the grounds.

"Harry, wait!" Ron called.

Ron reached out and grabbed Harry's shoulder to stop his headlong flight. 

"Just leave me alone!" Harry ordered loudly, twisting his shoulder out of Ron's grasp.

"But-" Hermione started.

"Spare me your well-meaning lecture this time, Hermione," Harry shouted angrily. "I don't want to hear it." 

Hermione stopped in shock and Ron put an arm around her shoulders comfortingly.

"Just let him blow off some steam," he said wisely, watching Harry stalk angrily towards the lake.

                        *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *

            Harry paced back and forth in front of the huge willow tree on the outskirts of the lake. He pulled off his arm pads and threw them to the ground, then his shin pads, making sure each item was thrown with full force. 

The tears forming in his eyes made him even angrier and he kicked the tree trunk in frustration, over and over, his foot jarring painfully with every hit. He finally fell to the ground in exhaustion and buried his head in his knees, sobbing uncontrollably.

He couldn't believe that Draco would flaunt his relationship with Pansy in his face right after he had lost Remus. He obviously didn't know him as well as he thought he had.

"I hate my life" he choked. 

"Harry?"

Harry sniffed and looked up, his expression softening when he saw Ethan standing over him looking concerned. 

"Do you want to talk?" he asked gently.

"Not really" Harry sighed, wiping his nose on his sleeve.

"Do you want me to leave?"

"No..."

Ethan smiled and sat down beside him, staring out at the lake silently and letting Harry think in peace. 

"I just feel so alone" Harry said quietly after awhile.

"You're not alone" Ethan assured him gently.

Harry looked at Ethan thoughtfully, taking in his hazel eyes and light brown hair, his high cheek bones and full lips. Ethan was a very attractive boy and Harry wondered if maybe he was the answer to all his problems. 

"Thanks for always being there for me, Ethan" he said gratefully, still staring into his hazel eyes. 

Ethan smiled and knew as he returned Harry's intense gaze, that this was going to be the turning point of their relationship. "There's no place I'd rather be. Come here."

Harry shuffled over and let Ethan wrap his arms around him, his body warm against his own. 

"I really do care about you, Harry. I wish I could protect you from all the pain in your life, it hurts me to see you like this" Ethan muttered soothingly into his hair.

Harry sat up and looked into Ethan's face. Ethan paused, then slowly bent his head down and touched his lips to Harry's. 

Harry closed his eyes and revelled in the comforting touch of someone's lips against his own, someone who sincerely cared for him. He craved the love and affection that he had been missing all his life and that he thought he had found in Draco before it had been cruelly ripped away from him. He just wanted to love and be loved in return.

"Is this okay?" Ethan asked.

"Yes...this is just fine" Harry smiled slowly.

Ethan returned the smile and held Harry to him again as they sat together in silence.

Harry sighed and felt a glimmer of hope that maybe his life wasn't complete crap after all. 


	12. The Return of Malfoy

            Draco surveyed his tired face in the mirror with disgust; the blue tinge under his eyes, a tell-tale sign of the sleepless night he had just tossed and turned his way through. He turned away from his reflection and clasped his black cloak around his shoulders, his fingers unusually shaky as they stumbled with the metal fastening. 

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, willing himself to calm down. The red hot anger he had felt last night at Pansy for her little display in front of his father was still burning close to the surface and he needed to keep his temper in check before heading off to breakfast.

He opened his eyes and carefully smoothed his hair before exiting his private dorm and walking into the Slytherin common room. 

"Crabbe! Goyle!" he called upon spotting his sorely neglected friends.

They turned and stared dully at him as he approached.

"Where's Pansy?" Goyle asked bluntly.

Draco frowned, "She doesn't go everywhere with me."

Goyle shared a look with Crabbe that Draco didn't like, and was far too intelligent for their trollish faces.

"What?" Draco demanded, glancing between them.

"It's more like _you_ go everywhere with _her_," Crabbe answered. 

"What's that supposed to mean?" Draco snapped.

"Well, it looks like she's got you wrapped around her little finger, Draco," Goyle explained, staring at the floor. 

Draco gaped at them in shocked anger, he couldn't believe they were talking to him like this. They never would've spoken to him like this last year.

"How dare you-" Draco raged.

"You've changed, Draco," Goyle interrupted. "I think all this time you're spending with Potter is making you soft."

Crabbe nodded in agreement. 

"I haven't changed," Draco retorted.

Another look passed between his two housemates.

"Stop that!" Draco snapped irritably.

"Draco!"

Draco closed his eyes briefly in a pained expression as Pansy's shrill voice echoed out from the girls' hallway.

"We'll see you at breakfast," Goyle muttered, making a hasty exit with Crabbe right behind him.

"What do you want?" Draco asked in annoyance, turning around to glare at her approaching figure.

"I thought you might like some company on your way to breakfast, Draky-kins."

"No, I don't...and don't call me that."

"I can call you whatever I want because you can't do anything about it," Pansy smirked.

"That's it!" Draco exploded. He grabbed the collar of her robe and spun her around until her back was up against the wall.

"What are you doing?" she shrieked.

"Shut-up, it's my turn to talk," Draco commanded, placing one hand over her mouth. "I have had enough of your obnoxious behaviour, and that stunt you pulled last night in front of my father was the last straw."

Every other student congregated in the common room, stared at the pair in surprise.

"Everybody out now!" Draco shouted, keeping his eyes on Pansy's face.

The Slytherins paused for half a second then made a mad dash for the portrait hole. The room was empty in no time, save for the fighting couple.

"I hate you, Parkinson," Draco growled. "I never want to touch your cold lips or look at your ugly, pig face again. Your voice is like nails on a blackboard to me. You are a pampered, spoiled bitch."

Pansy's eyes widened and she whimpered under Draco's tightly clamped hand.

"As soon as I release you, I'm sure the first thing you do will be to run off and write a letter to my father, but I don't care anymore. Do you really think he'll believe you over me? I am simply going to tell our other housemates that it was _my_ plan to capture Harry Potter for the Dark Lord, and that I've now decided to give it up."

Draco paused to let that sink in, then took a deep breath and continued –

"I can also spread some nasty rumours about you, Pansy dear. Or maybe your parents would like to know that their precious daughter has a secret stash of alcohol in her dorm and she doesn't go one night without getting completely sloshed out of her mind?"

Pansy narrowed her eyes and tried to bite his hand.

"Tsk, tsk," Draco tutted. "That's not very ladylike."

Draco smirked at the muffled cry of frustration and anger that Pansy emitted from under his restraint. 

"I'm going to release you now, Pansy," Draco informed her slowly, as if to a small child. "You'd better behave yourself."

He let go of her with a little shove and stepped back, watching her warily. Pansy took a deep breath and smoothed her rumpled robe carefully.

"So you're not going back to, Potter?" she asked calmly.

"No, I am not. Life was a hell of a lot easier before any of this started, not to mention safer. I love Harry, something you'll never even begin to understand, but I won't let you or my father endanger his life just because of my selfishness."

"Good, as long as you're unhappy" she sneered.

"This coming from the perfect model of joy and teenage contentment?" Draco scoffed. "Tell me, Pansy, is it the pig nose or the hopelessly, stupid brain that you're trying to drink away every night with a bottle of Firewhisky?"

"I drink because I like it. Unlike you, I am perfectly happy."

"Sure," Draco said sarcastically. "Like mother like daughter, I guess."

"Why you-" Pansy exclaimed, letting her cool control slip.

"Although in her case, I'd say she's drinking away the thought of your incredibly dull and lazy father," Draco drawled.

Pansy ran at him with a scream and raised her hands to try and claw at his face. Draco grabbed her wrists and shoved her backwards so that she fell hard onto her ass. She immediately tried to get up again and Draco grabbed her wrists once more in a vice-like grip, forcing her to remain on her knees.

"You'd better get used to this position, Parkinson," he sneered. "You'll be seeing it a lot in the future. You're a vindictive bitch and a whore, and that's all you'll ever be."

With that, Draco pushed her backwards again and let go. He spared her one last look, then turned away from her pathetic position on the floor and walked to the portrait hole.

"You'll regret this!" she shrieked at his retreating back. "Wait and see, I'm going to get you for this!"

"And my little dog too?" Draco laughed uncaringly.

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

"Never mind," Draco smiled with superiority as he opened the portrait door. "It's just something I learned from Harry...you wouldn't understand."

Before Pansy could reply, Draco exited the common room and slammed the door behind him with satisfaction. He smiled to himself as he made his way to the Great Hall.

He sat down in his old spot between Crabbe and Goyle, and they watched him curiously as he folded his hands on the table and smiled at them.

"Things are going back to the way they used to be," he announced determinedly to them. "The Potter plan is off and I have dumped Pansy on her ass – literally."

"Glad to hear it," Goyle smiled in relief, noticing the familiar malevolent spark in those silver eyes. 

"You must be relieved," Crabbe smiled. "Getting rid of Pansy and Potter on the same day. The past few weeks must have been pretty hard on you."

"You'll never know just_ how_ much," Draco replied ruefully.

Crabbe and Goyle began devouring their giant stack of pancakes, happy to have their old leader back.

Draco glanced over at Harry one last time. His cool Malfoy mask once again falling into place as he forced that part of his heart that cared deeply for the Gryffindor to shut down and be kept hidden away forever. 


	13. Paranoia Can Ruin A Relationship

       "All set?"

Harry leapt over the last three steps with a smile and ran over to Ethan.

"Yep."

Ethan grinned and pushed open the heavy Entrance Hall doors. The Saturday afternoon sun streamed through the open doorway and Harry had to hold a hand up to shade his eyes as he stepped outside.

"Nice day, isn't it?" Ethan asked, as they walked down the steps and headed off along the long, school drive. 

"Freezing as hell, though," Harry muttered, shoving his hands into his pockets.

Ethan laughed. "This is my favourite kind of weather – really cold, but sunny at the same time."

"Not me," Harry shivered. "I like hot, summer days."

"But winter is the best time of year! You've got snow, Christmas, and no school for three weeks."

"True, although summer gives you no school for two _months_."

"Hmm...you have a point, there," Ethan said thoughtfully.

"Let's call a tie," Harry suggested. "They're both equally enjoyable."

"Okay."

The two boys walked on in silence for a few minutes, admiring the changing colours of the trees stretching above them and thoroughly enjoying the break from the monotony of their weekly classes.

"Actually, I've changed my mind," Harry said, breaking the silence.

"About what?" Ethan asked, as he watched an owl fly overhead.

"About winter," Harry answered, kicking at the loose dirt along the path to Hogsmeade. "I think I _do_ like it better."

"I knew you'd come around," Ethan smiled. "What made you change your mind?"

"As much as I love the weather, I hate spending summer with my aunt and uncle. I'd much rather be at school."

Ethan glanced at Harry curiously, but didn't push for an explanation.

"So what's your family like?" Harry asked abruptly.

"My family? Oh, well...very dull and ordinary, I'm afraid. My mum stays at home and my dad owns his own restaurant." 

"Sounds nice, we should go there some time."

"Sure, if you want," Ethan shrugged. "It's all French cuisine, of course."

"I don't mind, I had some back in fourth year and it was pretty good."

"Mmm....I can almost taste my father's Filet de Vivaneau Sauce D'algues, right now."

"What's that?"

"It has mushrooms, carrots, onion, with red snapper fillets and lobster, cooked in olive oil and skim milk...délicieux!" Ethan described, closing his eyes.

Harry smiled and licked his lips. "You're making me hungry."

Ethan opened his eyes with a chuckle and glanced over. "What do you say, we eat first and _then_ walk around the village?"

"Definitely," Harry agreed.

"Our first date," Ethan mused with a smile.

Harry felt a sudden ache in his heart.

"Are you alright?" Ethan asked, seeing the strange look on Harry's face.

"Yes," Harry answered determinedly. To prove it to Ethan, and himself, he slipped his hand into Ethan's and forced a smile.

"Good," Ethan gave his hand a gentle squeeze. "God, your hand is freezing!"

"I know, I get cold really easily," Harry admitted, watching as Ethan started rubbing his hand to try and get some warmth back into it.

"Here, take these," Ethan said. He reached into his cloak pocket and pulled out a pair of thick, woollen gloves, handing them over to Harry.

"Thanks," Harry accepted gratefully. "Don't you want to wear them, though?"

"No, I'm fine," Ethan waved a hand dismissively. "As long as you promise to share."

"How-"

Harry cut himself off as Ethan took up his now gloved hand and held it tightly. Harry once again felt that little stab in his heart, but pushed it aside in annoyance.

"Don't think of, Draco...don't think of, Draco...don't think of, Draco," Harry repeated over and over again in his head.

"There it is!" Ethan exclaimed, using his free hand to point at the sight of the wizarding village just coming into view around the bend in the forest path. 

Harry grinned at Ethan's enthusiasm, and stuck close to the taller boy as they entered the High Street together. 

"So where are we going to eat?" Ethan asked, as he looked around.

"Erm, how about Madam Puddifoot's?" Harry suggested.

"Sure, lead on. You know this place better than I do."

"Oh, that's right. I forgot you've only been here once before."

"Harry, over here!"

Harry and Ethan looked to the right and saw Ron and Hermione emerging from Dervish and Banges.

"Hi," Harry smiled in greeting, as they jogged over.

"Did you guys just get here?" Hermione asked, her nose and cheeks pink from the cold air.

"Yeah, we were just heading to Madam Puddifoot's for lunch."

"She has the _best_ hot chocolate," Hermione said enthusiastically. "Have you been there before, Ethan?"

"Nope, Harry's giving me the grand tour today," Ethan smiled, glancing at Harry and giving his hand a squeeze.

Harry smiled and shyly returned the warm pressure of his hand.

"Hey, why don't we all eat together?" Ron suddenly exclaimed. "I'm starving."

"Sure," Harry readily agreed.

"Great, just give me a second to run to the post office," Hermione said happily.

"I have to go, too," Ron said, turning to follow Hermione. "We'll be right back."

Harry watched his friends run up the street a little ways, and into the large owl post building.

"Harry?" Ethan spoke immediately, turning to face him.

"Yes?"

"I thought we came here to be alone, to get away from everyone?"

"But...it's only Ron and Hermione," Harry said slowly.

"Don't you see them _every_ day?"

"Well, yeah-"

"I was looking forward to spending the day with you, _just_ you."

"I know-"

"It's not much of a date if your two friends tag along now, is it?"

"I guess not..."

"But if you'd rather spend the day with your friends, then I think I'll just leave..."

"No, don't go!" Harry said in alarm. "Its fine, I'll just tell them that we want, um...to be alone."

"Thanks, Harry," Ethan flashed him one of his bright smiles.

Harry smiled in relief and grasped Ethan's hand again as he led him up the street to stand outside the post office. They stood underneath the blue awning and peered through the large, front window. They could see a few wizards wandering around and hundreds of owls perched behind the counter. Ron and Hermione were tying letters to a couple of large brown owls as they watched.

"Do you not like them?" Harry asked quietly, still watching his friends through the window.

"Who?"

Harry turned and gave Ethan a look.

"Well, it's not that I don't like them," Ethan shifted uncomfortably, "it's just that I don't quite understand why you're still friends with them."

"Why wouldn't I be?" Harry asked quizzically. 

"You know, after what they did to you."

Harry opened his mouth, but at that moment the door to their right banged open and Ron and Hermione walked out.

"All finished," Ron grinned, clapping his hands together. "Let's go eat."

"Um, Ron?" Harry spoke up hesitantly. "I was wondering if it would be okay if we all ate out together another time?"

"Why-"

"It's just that it's kind of supposed to be _our_ day today," Harry hurried to explain, motioning to Ethan and himself. "Sorry."

"That's okay, Harry," Hermione said, her smile faltering.

Ron opened his mouth to speak –

"Goodbye," Ethan smiled. He turned and dragged Harry off in the opposite direction.

"Bye!" Harry called over his shoulder.

Hermione and Ron stared after the two as they walked down the street and into the small tea shop.

"That was strange," Ron muttered, "and don't tell me that you think that that was normal Harry behaviour."

"It wasn't," Hermione agreed, biting her bottom lip. "He seemed so eager for us to join him earlier."

"Do you think it was Ethan's idea?" Ron asked.

"Probably, but we shouldn't jump to conclusions. I guess it's understandable that he would want some alone time with him, I mean Harry is always surrounded by people at school, especially lately, what with the whole Malfoy thing."

"Hmph," Ron huffed. "That's still no excuse to be so rude."

"We'll just talk to him when he gets back later," Hermione soothed. "Come on, let's go."

They finally turned and walked back towards Hogwarts, purposefully changing the subject to Christmas and the presents they were hoping to get.

                        *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *

            Harry instantly remembered why he hated Madam Puddifoots, upon entering the sickeningly sweet shop. But it was the only place he knew of where you could eat and carry on a conversation without shouting – unlike the Three Broomsticks.

"Interesting choice," Ethan said, quirking a brow at the frilly seat cushions as they sat down at one of the private corner tables.

"You should see it on Valentine's Day," Harry snorted in disgust.

"So, why come here?"

"Because it was either this or the very busy and noisy Three Broomsticks."

"And this is better?" Ethan asked sceptically.

"Well, you said you wanted someplace quiet and this is quiet, but if you'd rather we leave," Harry said in annoyance.

"No , this is fine," Ethan laughed. "I'm sorry."

Harry removed his heavy cloak and Ethan's gloves, handing them over to the hazel eyed boy across from him.

"No, you keep them," Ethan pushed them back across the circular table. "You'll need them on the way home."

"Thanks," Harry slipped them into his cloak pocket as he slung it over the back of his chair.

"What can I get for you m'dears?" Madam Puddifoot asked, stopping by their table.

Harry was suddenly reminded of his disastrous first date here with Cho less than a year ago. He shuddered at the memory and desperately hoped that Madam Puddifoot didn't remember his last visit, which ended with his date storming out in tears.

"I'll have a hot chocolate and a tuna sandwich," Ethan said, snapping Harry out of his reverie.

"That's an odd combination," Harry smirked.

Ethan just smiled and shrugged his shoulders.

"I'll have the same," Harry decided.

Ethan laughed and handed Madam Puddifoot the shiny pink menus. She instantly bustled off behind the counter and set to work fixing their orders.

The shop was only half full, and Harry didn't recognize any Hogwarts students at the occupied tables. He started thinking back on what Ethan had said earlier, and wondered how to bring it up again without sounding angry.

Ethan sat back and crossed his arms over his chest as he watched Harry distractedly shred his napkin into pieces.

"I think it's dead, Harry."

Harry snapped his head up and dropped the napkin in embarrassment.

"What are you thinking about with such focused concentration?"

"I was just wondering what you meant earlier...about my friends," Harry explained.

"Oh, well...I was just surprised that you forgave them so easily."

"For what?" Harry asked, bewildered.

"Are you sure you want to talk about this now?"

"Yes," Harry nodded. "Forgive them for what?"

"For ruining your relationship with Draco Malfoy."

"What?" Harry blinked in surprise.

"I overheard Blaise and Pansy talking about how much they hated Ron and Hermione for dragging them off to see you and Draco together that day."

"What?" Harry gasped quietly.

"I thought you knew," Ethan said in concern.

"No...I..." Harry stammered. "Why would they do that? It can't be true."

"Maybe, it's not," Ethan reasoned. "I mean they were glad that you were so happy with Draco, right?"

"They didn't know."

"Then how did they know where to find you that day?"

"I'm not sure...I didn't really want to talk about it after it happened."

"You've never asked?" Ethan said in surprise. "Well, they didn't have a problem with Draco, did they?"

"Actually, they hate him," Harry said tonelessly.

"Oh," Ethan let a meaningful silence fall over the table.

"What else did Pansy and Blaise say?" Harry asked in a tight voice.

"All I heard was that Ron and Hermione came to them and said that they had something to show them, and gave them a piece of parchment with the time and place."

"No," Harry shook his head. "They might hate Draco, but they wouldn't intentionally hurt me like that."

"I'm just telling you what I heard," Ethan said.

"I know, it's not your fault."

"But why would Blaise and Pansy say that to each other in the Slytherin common room when they thought they were alone? It was empty and they didn't know that I was listening."

"I don't know..." Harry sighed. "There has to be some other explanation, I just can't believe that of my two best friends."

"Just like you couldn't believe that Draco would ever dump you?" Ethan ventured.

Harry looked up sharply. "That's not the same thing."

"Fine," Ethan held up his hands defensively, "I just think you should talk to them, is all."

"Maybe. Look, can we talk about something else now?"

"You're the one who brought it up," Ethan snapped.

"I know, and I'm sorry I did," Harry replied heatedly.

Luckily at that moment, Madam Puddifoot strode over with their food and drinks. She placed it in front of them with a smile and gave Harry a wink.

"You have quite a way with people, young man."

Harry felt his cheeks redden. Apparently she did remember.

"What was that about?" Ethan asked, once she had gone.

"Let's just say that I brought a date here last Valentine's Day and she left in tears," Harry said, beginning to smile.

"She?" Ethan raised a brow.

"That was last year, before..."

"Ah, so you're a _new_ team member," Ethan smiled.

"Team?" Harry smiled, glad for the lighter choice in topics.

"Yeah, you know – the gay team."

"The 'gay team'?" Harry snorted in laughter. "Are we forming our own quidditch league?"

Ethan choked on his hot chocolate and cried out as he burnt his tongue. Harry laughed harder at the chocolate now dribbling down his chin.

Ethan threw his used napkin at Harry in mock anger.

"Ouch, this is really hot," Ethan complained. "I wonder if they have any cream?"

"I'll go see," Harry offered with an amused smile, pushing his chair back.

Ethan watched Harry turn his back and weave through the tables towards the counter. He kept one eye on Harry as he reached into his trouser pocket and quickly pulled out a small vial of red liquid. He pulled out the silver stopper, shaped like a small dragon, and dumped the entire contents into Harry's hot chocolate. He shoved the empty vial back into his pocket and stirred the hot chocolate with the other hand, eyes still glued to Harry.

Harry took the white pitcher of cream from Madam Puddifoot and headed back to his table. 

"Thanks," Ethan smiled, as Harry poured some of the thick cream into his mug.

Harry returned the smile and set the pitcher down on the table as he sat back in his chair.

"How's the sandwich?" Harry asked.

"Quite good, actually," Ethan said around a mouthful of tuna. "The hot chocolate is excellent, too."

"I'm glad you like it," Harry smiled. 

He picked up his pale, blue mug and drank down the hot liquid eagerly, savouring the warmth spreading through his chilled body. Ethan smiled at him as he finished it off and started on his sandwich.

They ate in companionable silence, finishing off every last crumb.

"Can I interest you in some dessert?" Madam Puddifoot asked, as she came to collect their used dishes.

"What do you have?" Ethan asked cheerfully.

"Well, I just took out a fresh batch of scones from the oven, and I have some lovely strawberry jam and jersey cream to go with them."

            **~ * * * ~**

_"Look at what they gave us today!" Draco said, taking Harry's hand and pulling him towards a small dining table for two.  
  
The table was completely covered with food, including fresh scones with jersey cream and strawberry jam..._

_ "No, not jam!" Harry cried, his smile fading in panic.  
  
Draco grinned and dipped his hand into the sticky substance. He smeared it into Harry's thick hair and down his face to his chin. He then pulled the collar of Harry's robe out and tipped the rest of the pot down his shirt.  
  
"Ahhh....." Harry screamed, struggling desperately..._

_ Harry looked over at Draco and laughed at the clumps of pink salmon in his hair.  
  
"You should see yourself" Draco smirked, looking at the red goo covering most of the skin on Harry's face.  
  
He leaned forward and kissed the corner of Harry's mouth, flicking his tongue out to gently lick off some of the jam.  
  
"You're a mess" he murmured, continuing to kiss his way around Harry's lips and cheek..._

            **~ * * * ~**

Harry?"

Harry blinked and looked up at Ethan's concerned face.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Harry said shakily, absently pushing his glasses up on his nose.

"Did you want some dessert?" Ethan asked.

"No!" Harry said sharply. "I mean, no thanks."

"Okay."

Ethan stood and grabbed his cloak from the back of his chair. He watched Harry do the same, if somewhat robotically, and hand Madam Puddifoot some money. 

They re-emerged into the cold street, the sun now hidden behind a thick cover of grey clouds.

Harry pulled Ethan's gloves back onto his hands as his mind suddenly turned back to their earlier conversation about Ron and Hermione. He had been so happy with Draco, had they really found out about them and then set out to destroy their relationship on purpose? For some reason, the idea didn't seem as ludicrous as it had before.

"Where to now?" Ethan asked, watching Harry closely.

"Huh? Oh, how about Zonko's?" Harry suggested, still deep in thought. 

"What's that?"

"A joke shop," Harry explained, too distracted to realize that Ethan should've known that already.

"Great," Ethan chirped, grabbing Harry's hand and leading him away.

Harry stumbled forward a few steps before pulling back and stopping.

"Actually, I don't feel very good. Would you mind if we went back to Hogwarts?"

"Of course not, Harry," Ethan said, his eyes gleaming secretly. "Your health comes first."

"Thanks," Harry mumbled, leaning heavily on Ethan's arm as they slowly made their way out of Hogsmeade.

Harry's head was filled with suspicious thoughts about his 'supposed' best friends as they walked along. The more he thought about it, the more he realized that they never did care about his feelings. They both hated Draco and always put him down, even though they didn't really know him. It was Ron's fault after all, that he hadn't accepted Draco's friendship in the first place. 

Harry felt his blood boil as he thought about his scheming housemates, planning this whole sabotage mission behind his back. Maybe everyone in Gryffindor was in on it...

His mind slowly clouded with paranoia and he became angrier than he'd ever felt in his entire life. 

He quickened his pace, his nausea giving way to blinding rage, as he rushed to get back and have a 'chat' with his so-called friends.

Ethan saw the fire in those emerald eyes and smirked in satisfaction.


	14. But the Venom Seeps Deeper

          Harry threw open the Entrance Hall doors and stormed inside, Ethan right on his heels. Ethan could practically feel the waves of anger rolling off of the Boy-Who-Lived and could see the warped sense of reality clouding his vision. The Inflecto potion was working its dark magic on the young wizard, letting the seeds of suspicion that Ethan had planted, grow and become the only thought in his altered perception.

  "Harry?"

Harry stopped with one foot on the bottom stair of the sweeping Hall staircase and turned around.

"Yes?"

"I'll see you later, okay?" Ethan fought to keep the glee from his voice.

"Yeah, sure..."

He watched as the tightly wound boy spun around and practically flew up the stairs on his way to the Gryffindor dorms. Ethan would've loved to see the scene that was about to take place in Harry's common room, but he knew it would be wise to stay away from his suspicious friends for awhile. He knew that Harry was a boy led by his emotions and feelings, something that the potion he had slipped him fed on. 

Ethan turned and strolled off down the dungeon corridors. He came around one corner and saw Professor Snape exiting a classroom. He quickly ducked into an alcove and hid in the shadows as the tall man passed by. He stayed there until he was sure the potions professor was gone, then stepped out and dusted off his robes, before continuing on his way towards his dorm.

                        *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *

            Harry spit out the password and squeezed through the portrait hole before it was even completely open. He glanced around the cozy room, his hands balled into fists at his sides, as he looked for Ron and Hermione. He spotted them chatting quietly by the blazing fire. 

He strode over, not caring that the room was full of his fellow housemates, he was ready to burst from the festering anger flowing through his body.

"Harry," Ron greeted with a smile as he looked up.

Hermione's greeting died on her lips as she looked up at Harry towering over them.

"Did you sabotage my relationship with Draco on purpose?" he demanded, eyes flashing dangerously.

"What?" Ron asked, taken aback.

"I said, did you set out to destroy my relationship with Draco Malfoy on purpose?" he repeated icily.

"Harry, what's wrong?" Hermione asked worriedly. His normally easy to read green eyes were almost black in colour as he glared at them.

"I'll tell you what's wrong!" Harry raged loudly, the chatter in the common room coming to an abrupt halt. "Two people, who I thought were my friends, went behind my back to get rid of the one person that's ever cared for me, just because they didn't approve of him."

"Harry, that's ridiculous," Hermione exclaimed.

"Is it?" Harry cried. "Tell me, how did you know where to find us that day?"

"We were sent a letter, mate," Ron answered, glancing at Hermione.

"How convenient," Harry spat sarcastically. "And tell me, why were Pansy and Blaise there?"

"They were sent one too."

"Don't lie to me!" Harry yelled. "I know it was you two who told them about us, I know you led them there on purpose. Who else would want to break us up? You found out about us and didn't want me forming a relationship with Malfoy. It tore you apart that we were becoming so close, didn't it? You both hated him from the start, admit it!"

Ron and Hermione stared in shock at their friend. Harry was shaking as he shouted at them, his cheeks turning red and his eyes gleaming with hatred.

"Harry, please...we would never do that," Hermione said, her mind desperately trying to figure out why he was acting so strangely.

"Stop lying!" Harry screamed.

Hermione flinched.

"That's enough!" Ron shouted, standing up. "You're scaring everyone. Why are you acting like this?"

"Because I've finally realized what kind of people you really are."

"Harry, we didn't do anything!" Ron shouted in a pleading sort of voice.

"It wasn't just you though, was it?" Harry went on in a deadly whisper, his eyes contracting slightly. "You were all in on it."

He turned around and pointed his finger at all the people gathered around the common room.

"You didn't want a Slytherin and a Gryffindor...or better yet, Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy together, did you?"

Hermione rose to her feet and stared in open mouthed shock at this stranger who was acting paranoid and vindictive, and so different from the Harry she knew. Ron glanced at her helplessly, praying that Harry would come to his senses.

"Why don't we take a walk, Harry?" Ron suggested.

Harry whipped around again.

"You'd like that wouldn't you?" he spat. "What are you planning next? To murder me and dump my body in the forest? You've always been jealous of me, Ron, you'd like to see me fall flat on my face, wouldn't you? I bet you loved that I was utterly humiliated by the entire school for getting caught sleeping with Draco Malfoy and then called a whore by that very same person that I thought loved me."

"Harry..." Ron whispered, hurt.

"You don't have the money to buy your fame, so you thought you'd just take mine away. You certainly won't get it by playing quidditch, you really are horrible at being keeper, Ron. I guess you thought you'd try and drag me down in your humiliation, too."

Ron pressed his lips together and refused to rise to whatever Harry was trying to get him to do.

"Harry-" Hermione started, placing a hand on his arm.

"Don't touch me, Mudblood!"

The entire room gasped and Hermione looked as if she'd been hit.

"Why you!" Ron growled. He lunged forward, but Hermione caught him and pulled him back.

"Who's making you act like this, Harry?" Hermione demanded. "It's Ethan isn't it?"

"No, I've just come to my senses," he smirked.

"Don't listen to him, Harry," she said. "Whatever poison he's been feeding you, just stop listening to him-"

"Oh, I see," Harry said, backing up a step. "Now you're out to take Ethan away from me, too? Well, it won't work. He won't ever break up with me, guess I ruined your fun. Does it piss you off that I'm happy again? That someone else loves me, despite your best efforts to prevent me from ever experiencing that again?"

"Harry, of course we want you to be happy. You're like a brother to us, we love you, Harry," Hermione said, trying to calm the irate boy.

"Or maybe it's because I'm gay," Harry continued, ignoring her. "All a bunch of homophobes in this house. You're trying to squash it out of me, just like my uncle tried to squash the magic out of me. But it won't work, I'm too strong, I can beat you."

"Harry, this is getting ridiculous," Ron said. "I think you'd better leave now and go think about what you're saying."

"I wish I'd been sorted into Slytherin like I was supposed to be," Harry raged on. "You're all a bunch of fuckwits who like to piss around with other people's lives. And they say Slytherins are manipulative..."

The other students glared at Harry, their Gryffindor pride starting to fill them with resentment. 

Harry turned back to Ron and Hermione.

"I hate you."

"I don't much care for you right now, either," Ron said coolly. "But I know that you are not yourself, so I will try and overlook this."

"I don't want your friendship anymore, Ronald Weasley," Harry sneered. "Or yours, Hermione, so spare me your false compassion. You are both to blame for this, and you are both malicious, spiteful liars."

"Harry-"

"No, I don't ever want to speak to you again. Don't try to talk to me either. I'm fucking tired of you all."

Harry turned on his heel and stormed from the room, the portrait slamming behind him with a resounding bang.

The entire room stood rooted to the spot. Shock and disbelief, and in most cases anger, were reflected in their faces.

Hermione collapsed back onto the couch and stared at the fire, her eyes shining with unshed tears. Ron sat down beside her, still staring at the portrait where Harry had just exited from.

"What the hell was that?" he finally whispered.

"I don't know..." Hermione sniffed. "Ron, something is terribly wrong with him. He called me a...a..."

"I know," Ron snapped out of his daze and put an arm around his friend comfortingly. "We'll figure this out, we're not letting him go that easily."

Hermione nodded and rested her head on Ron's shoulder, as they stared into the fire together, both lost in thought.

                        *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *

            Harry made it all the way to the Entrance Hall, before collapsing onto the floor. He was thankful that no other students were currently around, but it was getting close to dinner and the Hall would soon be full of hungry teenagers passing through. He crawled around the base of the stairway and leaned against it in exhaustion. 

Sweat was dripping down his forehead and his entire body ached, his head pounding painfully. He didn't have the strength to stand or even move, so he sat there for the better part of an hour, breathing heavily and fighting to remain conscious.

Soon students were passing by, entering the Great Hall in noisy groups. Harry pressed himself against the stairs and bent over to remain in shadow. He heard Ron and Hermione pass by, the sound of his name catching his attention, but he couldn't hear what they were saying. He felt another burst of anger bubble up to the surface and fought to quell his rising temper, he knew that he would surely pass out from the effort.

He peeked out from his hiding place and spied Crabbe and Goyle emerge from the dungeon corridor. He raised his head a bit more, his eyes straining as he struggled to see if Draco was with them. 

Crabbe and Goyle started walking over to where Harry was hidden, and he ducked back down with a stifled gasp. 

"What is taking him so long?" Goyle whined. "I'm hungry."

The two goonish boys sat on the bottom steps and stared longingly into the Great Hall, the enticing aroma of dinner wafting out towards them. Harry felt his own stomach clench with hunger at the smell. He licked his dry lips and yearned for a tall glass of water. He needed something to restore his strength.

Crabbe took out a bag of candy and passed over some caramels to his friend.

"Crabbe, Goyle!"

Harry jumped at the sound of Draco's voice.

"Finally," Crabbe muttered, getting to his feet heavily.

Draco walked over to them, standing only feet away from Harry.

"What took you so long?" Goyle asked.

"Do you think perfection is easy?" Draco smirked.

Harry resisted the urge to reach out and touch Draco's robes.

"Can we eat now?" Crabbe pleaded, his stomach rumbling loudly.

"Is that all you two think about?" Draco asked with a roll of his eyes. "Give me one of those."

Crabbe tossed over the small plastic bag of candy, but was way off with his aim and it tumbled down over the railing and directly into Harry's lap.

Harry gasped and looked up wildly, his heart hammering.

"You stupid oaf," Draco chastised in annoyance. He walked around the banister and crouched down to search for the bag.

Instead of a dusty corner of floor, he found Harry sitting in the shadows, staring up at him.

Draco's eyes widened and he froze.

"Did you find it, Draco?"

Draco stood up quickly and turned around.

"No, go on without me," he said with a hint of irritation. "I'll find it and bring it in with me."

"We'll help-" Goyle offered, hopping down the steps.

"No," Draco ordered sharply. "I don't want to hear your stomachs growling for another five minutes while we search. Just go."

"Okay," they replied uncertainly.

Draco watched them leave, then turned back around.

"Harry?"

Harry shuffled backwards a few feet and looked away. He could feel himself shivering as flashes of hot and cold ran through his body. He cursed his luck at having Draco see him like this when he swore that he would never let the blond see him weak again.

"Harry?" Draco knelt down and looked into his half hidden face. "Are you alright?"

Harry looked up and Draco saw the drying sweat glistening on his forehead and the ghostly white pallor of his skin.

"Harry, what happened? What are you doing here?" he asked in concern, shuffling forwards and reaching out a gentle hand. 

"I believe I could ask you the same thing."

Draco looked behind him and saw Ethan leaning against the banister, his arms crossed and his expression stormy.

He stood up abruptly and stood eye to eye with the other Slytherin, matching height inch for inch.

"I don't believe he's any of your concern now, Malfoy," Ethan said calmly.

Draco watched as Ethan swept by him and leaned down over Harry's huddled form. Ethan took a hold of his limp arms and hauled him to his feet. 

Harry sagged weakly in his strong arms, his vision blurring slightly.

"What's wrong with him?" Draco asked with a frown.

"I think you can leave now, Malfoy," Ethan said with a sardonic smile. "I've got it under control. Besides, you wouldn't want anyone to know you've been talking to Potter again now, would you?"

Draco reigned in his temper, knowing he was right. He couldn't afford to be caught with Harry again. He turned away.

"Draco?" Harry cried out softly.

He turned around and looked into Harry's sweet face. 

"Here."

Harry held out the bag of candy in his pale hand.

Draco walked forward and took it, briefly locking eyes with Harry's dazed and tired ones. He noticed that his eyes had a strange lack of awareness swirling in their dark, jade coloured depths.

Ethan turned and walked Harry slowly towards the dungeon corridor, Harry leaning heavily on his shoulder for support.

"I think we need to have a little chat, Harry dear," Ethan whispered into his ear. "We need to discuss the type of people you are conversing with when I'm not around."

Draco looked down at the small bag in his hand and forced himself to turn away and head into the Hall. He felt as if he was being ripped apart as he let Harry be taken away in that state. 

But Ethan was right, it wasn't his place to care for the Gryffindor anymore.


	15. Artificially Sweet

            Harry stumbled down the corridor, leaning heavily on Ethan for support, as they made their way down into the bowels of the castle. His head lolled from side to side and his skin beaded with sweat from the sudden onslaught of hot flashes as the Inflecto potion ran its course.

Ethan dragged him across the empty common room and kicked open his bedroom door, depositing his nearly unconscious burden unceremoniously onto the rug in front of the fireplace. Harry squeezed his eyes shut against the waves of nausea washing over him and curled up into a fetal position.

Ethan stood staring down at him with barely disguised anger for a few minutes, then strode off into his private washroom.

Harry warily cracked his eyes open and stared up at the ceiling. He took a deep, calming breath as the churning in his stomach came to a stop, leaving his body feeling completely drained after the events of the day.

Ethan walked back into the room, holding a tall glass of water, and crouched down over Harry's body.

"Here, drink this."

Harry propped himself up on his elbows and put his lips to the cool glass to drink.

"Thanks," he said gratefully as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

Ethan didn't return the smile. He turned and walked over to a small, mahogany table beside his four poster bed and set the empty glass down.

"Is something wrong?" Harry asked hesitantly.

"Of course there's something wrong!" Ethan snapped, facing the wall.

"What?" Harry asked, pushing himself up into a sitting position.

"You were talking with Draco Malfoy!" Ethan accused, spinning around to face him.

"No, I wasn't. He was talking to me, I never said a word to him," Harry answered truthfully, surprised to see the unfamiliar expression of anger on Ethan's normally gentle face.

"Harry, I don't understand you. I thought you didn't want anything to do with Draco Malfoy anymore. I'm afraid that you'd run back to him the moment he offered."

"I would not," Harry protested weakly.

Ethan sat down on the edge of his bed with a sigh. "Come here, Harry."

Harry scrambled to his feet and sat down next to the older boy. 

"Harry, listen," Ethan said, taking his hand. "I want you to be happy, no matter who you're with, but I'm afraid all Malfoy is going to do is bring you more hurt and pain. Can you honestly say that you wouldn't go back to him if you had the chance?"

Harry bit his lip and looked away. "I..."

"The sooner you realize that he won't be asking you back again, the sooner you'll be able to move on with your life."

"I'm not as naïve as you think," Harry said quietly, after a pause. "I know that I need to get over Draco, and I _am_ trying."

"Can you promise me something?" Ethan asked seriously.

"What?"

"That you'll stop talking to him? For good?"

"I..." Harry stammered.

"It's just that I've had some bad experiences in the past with unfaithful boyfriends. I fall in love with some one and then they turn around and stab me in the back. I guess I'm just afraid that the same thing will happen with you."

Harry squeezed his hand in understanding. "I promise I won't so much as look at Malfoy again."

"Thank-you," Ethan smiled.

"I know how that feels," Harry said. "To have the loved ones in your life suddenly leave you, it happens to me all the time. At least I know _you_ won't break my heart."

"Never," Ethan assured him as he put an arm around his shoulders and pulled him to his side.

Harry yawned and rested his head on Ethan's shoulder.

"How have you been doing lately?" Ethan asked quietly. "I mean, with losing Remus and everything?"

"I'm okay," Harry shrugged. "Mostly, I just try not to think about it."

"You can always talk to me if you want," Ethan offered.

"I know, and Ron and Hermione, too."

"If they want to talk to _you_," Ethan pointed out with a smile.

"What?" Harry asked sleepily.

"Well, you did just yell at them for twenty minutes for breaking up you and Malfoy."

Harry lifted his head and his eyes widened in alarm.

"What? I did? I...don't remember. I remember being angry...for some reason..."

"You don't remember them confessing to you?"

"They...confessed?" Harry asked in shock. "I wasn't feeling well...I don't remember, I..."

"They confessed and you said that they weren't your friends anymore," Ethan explained.

"I can't believe..." Harry shook his head, trying to piece together the fragmented images of the day's events. "You were there, too?"

"Why don't you lie down and get some sleep? It'll help clear your head, and I'll just pop down to the Great Hall and bring us back some dinner."

"Yeah..." Harry agreed distractedly.

Ethan stood and helped him to remove his shoes and tuck him comfortably into his large bed. Harry laid his head back against the soft pillows and closed his eyes, falling fast asleep. 

Ethan smiled down at him, then left his room for the Great Hall.

            * * * * * * * * 

"Ah, come in, Severus." Dumbledore looked up from his desk with a smile.

Snape nodded in greeting and sat down in one of the chairs opposite the headmaster.

"Is this a social call or is there something on your mind?" Dumbledore asked pleasantly.

"I'm here to talk about Ethan Fiori."

"Is there a problem with him?"

Snape shifted in his chair and leaned back against the red cushion. "He dropped my advanced potions class."

"I hardly think that that is grounds for punishment," Dumbledore smiled. "Seventh year students change their minds all the time about which classes to take, finding that they either want to pursue other interests or that they don't have an affinity for it after all."

"This one is different, Albus," Snape spoke firmly. "He showed an incredible talent for potion making on his first day, then all of a sudden he started sitting at the back of the room and missing classes all together."

"And you want me to urge him to return to your class?" Dumbledore asked.

"I think he is avoiding me...on purpose."

"Avoiding you? For what reason?"

"I'm not sure," Snape sighed with a shake of his head. "But I've seen him turn around and head the other way when he sees me coming in the corridors."

"Are you sure you're not being paranoid?"

"No," Snape leaned forward. "There is something strange about that boy. The more I watch him, the more I think there is something...familiar about him."

"Familiar?"

Snape nodded.

"Do you think he is somehow connected to Voldemort?"

"Again, I'm not sure."

Dumbledore looked sceptical.

"I started to think that I was over reacting as well, but now I see that he has developed a friendship with, Potter. I do not think that it's a coincidence."

The headmaster rested his elbows on his desk and steepled his fingers together as he thought.

"I've only ever seen him be extremely kind to Harry, or anyone else, for that matter," he said aloud.

"I just think we should keep an eye on him," Snape said with a frown.

"Hmm..." Dumbledore stood and walked over to the window to gaze out. 

Professor Snape watched the headmaster patiently as the old man thought in silence, the setting sun casting an orange hue over his thin frame.

"Alright." Dumbledore turned. "I would like you to keep an eye on his actions, just to be on the safe side."

"Good."

Snape rose from his chair and nodded in farewell before sweeping out.

Dumbledore retrieved Ethan's records from his files and sat down with a weary sigh. Fawkes came to rest on his knee and he stroked him absently as he reviewed the boy's history again.

                        * * * * * * * * * 

            Harry slowly opened his eyes and gazed blearily up at the green drapes surrounding him before giving a big yawn and stretching beneath the warm layer of blankets on Ethan's bed. He sat up with a smile when he realized that he felt completely back to normal again.

He pushed open the bed hangings and reached for his glasses on the bedside table. The dim room came into focus and he suddenly noticed that he was wearing black, silk pyjamas. He smiled as he fingered the smooth material, wondering where Ethan was and cursing the dungeons for not having any windows to judge the time of day by.

He slipped out of bed and spied a tray of food sitting on a table by the cooling hearth.

"Harry, you're awake."

Harry turned and grinned as Ethan entered his room from the outside hallway.

"Have something to eat," he offered, as he shut the door behind him.

Harry flopped into one of the cozy armchairs and picked up the steaming bowl of shepherd's pie, digging into it greedily.

Ethan sat in the opposite chair and watched him.

"What time is it?" Harry asked around a mouthful of potato.

Ethan wrinkled his nose with a smile. "It's nearly nine-thirty."

"Wow," Harry swallowed. "I've been asleep for almost four hours."

"Feel better?"

"Much," Harry smiled.

Harry continued to polish off his dinner as Ethan flipped through one of his school books. 

"I had a dream about you while I was sleeping," Harry said later, as he put down his empty bowl and took a sip of pumpkin juice.

"Really?" Ethan looked up in amusement. "What was it about?"

"It was very short and boring. You were talking to someone through the fireplace, I couldn't see who, but the weird part was you were speaking in French and I don't know any French at all."

"That is weird," Ethan said as he glanced back at his book.

"Maybe it means I want you to speak French more often," Harry smiled.

"Vous excite-t-il, Harry?"

"What does that mean?"

"Just answer yes or no," Ethan smiled.

"Er, yes?"

Ethan laughed.

"What did I just say yes to?" Harry demanded with a grin.

"Never mind," Ethan smirked.

Harry shook his head and placed his empty glass back onto the tray. "I guess I'd better be getting back to my dorm," he said reluctantly.

"Do you want some company?" Ethan asked, rising to follow Harry as he walked to the door.

"No, I'll be fine. I'll return your pyjamas to you tomorrow."

"No, keep them. They look better on you anyway."

"Liar," Harry smiled.

Ethan handed Harry his bundle of clothes, then touched his hand to his cheek affectionately. "You don't give yourself enough credit, Harry Potter. You're very good looking."

Harry blushed, pleased.

"In fact, you're irresistible."

Ethan leaned down and gently brushed Harry's lips with his own.

"Good-night," he whispered.

"Good-night," Harry breathed, opening his eyes again.

Harry opened the door and walked out, a silly smile still on his face. He dropped his shoes to the ground and slipped them on before continuing up the hall, passing a few shocked Slytherins along the way.

He emerged into a thankfully empty common room and proceeded out the portrait hole. He passed a few more Slytherins heading into the dungeons as he made his way up towards the Entrance Hall. Just at the end of the last corridor, he spotted the platinum, blond head of Draco walking towards him in the opposite direction. He was flanked as usual by Crabbe and Goyle, who were still stuffing their faces with extra cookies from dinner.

Harry tightened his arms around his bundle of clothes, lifted his chin, and walked by without so much as a glance in his direction. 

Draco studied Harry out of the corner of his eye as he passed by, and almost stopped dead to stare after him in shock. His gray eyes swept over the black, silken pyjamas, flushed face, and messy hair, and he felt a sudden stab in his heart. He knew Harry had gone to the Slytherin dorms with Ethan, but that had been hours ago. Then he emerges looking...well, looking like someone who had definitely gotten over their last boyfriend. 

Draco frowned sadly and followed his friends on towards the Slytherin dorms.

Harry continued his journey to Gryffindor Tower and gave the password to the Fat Lady, he stepped inside and was met by an icy silence from the few students still congregated in the warm room. 

He ignored them and quickly climbed the stairs to his dorm, hoping to find Ron so he could talk to him about what had happened earlier and maybe help fill in the gaps of his memory. There had to be some other explanation for...

He paused outside the boy's sixth year door, hearing loud voices within. He heard his name and quickly pressed his ear to the wood to listen.

"...want revenge on, Harry?"

Hermione's voice.

"Because he dated, Malfoy-"

Ron.

"But why-"

"Hermione, he slept with a Slytherin! What other reason do you need?"

Harry jumped at the sudden shout.

"Ron, calm down."

"I'm sorry, it's just that he makes me so angry."

"I know, I'm so disgusted with the whole thing."

Tears began to obscure his vision as Harry listened to his friends on the other side of the door.

"What are we going to do?" Ron asked.

"I don't know how yet, but the first thing we have to do is separate Harry from Ethan."

"Agreed."

"It won't be as easy as it was with, Malfoy. Ethan doesn't seem to care at all if everyone knows about their relationship."

"Which is going to make it all the harder for us to convince Harry that he's bad for him, even with all of Gryffindor..."

Harry strained to hear as their voices became suddenly lower, as if they were walking further away.

"...potion to affect his judgment."

Harry gasped quietly.

"Do you think Dumbledore knows?"

"I'm not sure. Hopefully he doesn't find out or else..."

"...we could get him expelled."

Harry gritted his teeth together in betrayed anger and pressed closer. The door creaked loudly as he pushed against it.

"What was that?" Hermione asked from inside.

Harry turned and bolted down the stairs, rushing past other Gryffindors, and pushing through the portrait hole.

Ron opened the door and glanced out into the deserted hallway.

"No one's there," he proclaimed, closing the door again.

He crossed the room and sat back down on the window ledge, facing Hermione who was sitting cross-legged on his trunk.

"Do you really think we could get Ethan expelled?" Ron asked.

"If we can get some evidence to prove that he's manipulating Harry, then yes I think it's possible," Hermione answered matter-of-factly.

"I just hope we're right..."

"Ron, you know what he called me. I know there's something going on."

Ron nodded and glanced at his bedside clock. "It's getting late, we should get some sleep."

Hermione stood and yawned as if in agreement.

"I wonder where Harry is?" Ron asked anxiously.

"I hope he's okay."

                        *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *

            Harry sat huddled under the sinks in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, tears streaming down his face.

"Ethan was right all along," he choked. "I can't believe they'd do this to me..."

Harry buried his face in his arms and cried over the end of the famous Gryffindor Trio, of the friends he thought he'd known so well, and who he'd thought would always be there for him no matter what.

The clouds parted and washed the girl's lavatory in moonlight, where Harry remained for hours until finally falling asleep on the tiled floor.


	16. Caught In Your Web

                                                                                                _~ Got caught in your web and I learned how to bleed_

_                                                                                                    I was prey in your bed and devoured completely ~_

            Before he had even opened his eyes, Harry became painfully aware that he was lying on the cold, hard, dirty floor of the girl's lavatory. He pushed himself up with a groan of discomfort and stood staring at his rumpled reflection in the mirror. With a sigh, he turned the tap and splashed some water onto his face, then cupped his hands and rinsed the bad un-brushed taste out of his mouth.

            The corridors were bustling with students on their way to breakfast as Harry joined the noisy throng heading towards the Great Hall. Only a handful of Gryffindors were already seated when Harry entered and, at his approach, they all simultaneously moved away so that he was sitting at one end of the table alone.

            At first, Harry felt hurt by the obvious rebuff, but quickly remembered that they were all working against him with Ron and Hermione. A warm smile and a wink from Ethan over at the Slytherin table instantly quelled any lingering doubts about his friend's betrayal. More and more Gryffindors accumulated around the long table, blatantly ignoring the Boy-Who-Lived and sitting as far away from him as possible. 

            Harry looked down at his plate in embarrassment as the rest of the school began to take notice of the strange seating arrangement over at Gryffindor table. 

            "Harry! Harry, where have you been?"

            Harry snapped his head up at Hermione's frantic shouts as she and Ron entered the Hall. He narrowed his eyes and refused to answer, choosing instead to turn away from them and give his attention to the head table. He locked eyes with Snape and immediately dropped his gaze from the Professor's searching look.

            "Harry?" Ron ventured tentatively, as he sat across the table from him.

            Hermione pursed her lips as she noticed the venomous looks directed Harry's way from the rest of her house. 

            "Harry?" she tried, when Ron's hesitant inquisition went unanswered. 

            "I thought I made it perfectly clear yesterday that I didn't wish to speak to you two anymore," Harry finally replied calmly.

            "But-" Ron started.

            Harry shut him up with an icy glare.

            "You weren't yourself yesterday," Hermione finished firmly.

            Ron nodded.

            "This _is the real me, and if you can't handle it then I suggest you sod off and find some one else that will fit your idea of 'normal'," Harry said coolly._

            "You can't expect us to believe-"

            "All I expect," Harry cut in sharply, "is for you two to leave me the hell alone!"

            With that, Harry rose from the bench and stormed out of the Hall. The nearby tables buzzed in curiosity, some of the students shooting furtive glances towards Draco to see his reaction. 

            Draco watched Harry's angry exit with an impartial air, but inside he was dying to know what was going on with the moody Gryffindor. He was confused over Harry's uncharacteristic behaviour; from finding him vulnerable and weak hiding under staircases, to confidently striding through the dungeon corridors clad in nothing but pyjamas, to publicly dismissing his two best friends at breakfast – it just all seemed very strange.

            Over at the Gryffindor table, Ron and Hermione were thinking the exact same thing.

            "Just let him go," Seamus advised them loudly.

            "Forget him," Dean added darkly. "I for one have had enough of his self-absorbed behaviour."

            There were nods and murmurs of agreement from around the hostile table.

            "We have to talk to him," Ron urgently whispered aside to Hermione.

            "I know," she replied quietly. "Come on."

            Under the scrutiny of the rest of the school, two thirds of the Gryffindor trio went off in search of their friend. 

            Harry wandered aimlessly across the school grounds, unconsciously ending up by the Whomping Willow. He stood back and looked up at the proud, old tree sadly. It was a reminder of happier times and he knew he would never again be able to set foot in the Shrieking Shack without subconsciously conjuring up the image of Draco; all smooth skin and silvery hair, the smell of him, the taste, the sound of his laughter still echoing down the secret tunnel like a ghost. It was all just a memory now, one he so desperately wanted to wipe out.

            "Harry?"

            Lost in thought, Harry hadn't heard the approach of Ron and Hermione behind him. He sighed wearily and kept his back turned to them.

            "Harry, please talk to us," Ron pleaded. "Tell us what's wrong, why you're acting so strange."

            Harry clenched his jaw at the word 'strange'. He knew what they really wanted to say was, 'stop being gay and dating Slytherin boys.'

            "You can't change me," Harry said quietly.

            "We don't want to change you," Hermione said desperately. "We just want the old Harry back."

            "Well, that's too bad," Harry snapped. "This is the new me and you'll just have to deal with it."

            "Harry," Hermione frowned, starting to feel frustrated. "I don't know why you're acting like this, but it's not who you are."

            "Would you stop telling me who I am!" Harry shouted, spinning around to face them.

            "Listen to yourself!" Ron exclaimed. "Stop getting so defensive, we're just trying to help."

            "Help?" Harry scoffed. "If you really wanted to help, you'd stay the fuck out of my life!"

            "Not when you're being so obviously manipulated by some one else," Hermione shot back.

            "Ah, I was wondering when you'd drag Ethan into this," Harry sneered.

            "He's the source of all your problems, Harry."

            "No, he is the source of what little happiness I have left, thanks to you two, and now _you are the source of all my problems."_

            "Why can't you see what he's doing to you?" Ron asked heatedly. "For some one heralded as the future saviour of the wizarding world, you sure are clueless!"

            "Leave. Me. Alone," Harry seethed.

            "No."

            Harry ran a hand through his hair in exasperation. "Look, we've obviously grown apart, so let's just accept that and walk away."

            "I refuse to believe that you suddenly woke up one morning loving Slytherins and calling Hermione a-"

            "I don't care what you believe!" Harry exploded. "Get it through your head: I don't want to be your friend anymore!"

            "Fine!" Ron yelled, cheeks flushed. "I don't have to stand here and take this when we're just trying to help you."

            "You're making a mistake, Harry," Hermione warned.

            "No, being friends with you guys was the biggest mistake of my life." Harry turned on his heel and walked off.

            "That's it," Ron muttered angrily. "If he ever comes to his senses, he knows where to find us, but until then I don't want anything more to do with that pig-headed, ungrateful-"

            "That was really him, Ron," Hermione said hollowly. "I don't think he was under any spells this time."

            Ron shook his head and eyed Harry's slowly retreating back with contempt.

                        *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *

            Harry missed all of his classes for the day and spent the time hiding away in the third floor corridor. He sat on the stone window seat with his legs drawn up and his chin resting on his knees, as he gazed sullenly out at the dark mass of trees in the distance that made up the Forbidden Forest. The gradually sinking sun cast beams of light into the musty room, illuminating Fluffy's abandoned trap door and the countless particles of dust floating in the air.

            Harry sighed and checked his watch for the hundredth time, impatient for night to fall so that he could spend some time with Ethan; his one ally. Today's events had drudged up memories of his second year at Hogwarts, every student watching him and hating him, it was a hard situation to deal with and, no matter how much you think you hate them in return, it still hurts to be shunned and labelled an outcast. Harry was just glad that he had some one like Ethan that cared for him and was there for him when he needed it.

            Another glance at his watch told him that dinner was nearly over. He hopped off the window seat and threw on his invisibility cloak as he headed off to the dungeons. He carefully threaded his way through the crowded corridors, pressing up against walls and ducking into alcoves to keep his presence unknown. He arrived out of breath at the secret entrance to the Slytherin dorms and leaned against the wall to wait for a student to come along and open the portrait for him. 

            Ten minutes later, two third years came strolling by, gave the password and entered. Harry deftly squeezed himself through before the large painting could swing shut again. He watched the two Slytherins he had followed in, flop down on the green couch and crack open their homework. He silently slipped past them and walked down the hallway to Ethan's seventh year dorm, but found that the door was locked. He removed his wand from under his cloak and tried to spell the door open, but it wouldn't budge. It had apparently been magically sealed shut. 

            He only had to wait another fifteen minutes before he saw the tall, French boy come striding up the hallway towards him.

            "Psst! Ethan."

            "Harry?" Ethan asked, looking around in bewilderment.

            "I'm here," Harry said, touching his arm and making him jump slightly. "I'm using an invisibility cloak."

            Ethan breathed out in relief. "Oh, right. I forgot you had one of those."

            "How did you know?"

            Ethan turned back towards his door and lifted his wand. "Let's get inside before some one comes along and hears us."

            Harry nodded, unseen at his side.

            "Énigme," Ethan muttered, releasing the door's locking spell. "Get in."

            Harry followed Ethan inside and immediately dropped his invisibility cloak onto the nearest chair.

            "I'll change the protection spell so that you can enter by yourself if you ever need or want to," Ethan said, re-locking the door behind him.

            "Thanks," Harry smiled as he stood on the rug in front of the hearth.

            "So, what happened to you today?" Ethan asked, creating a warm fire with the flick of his wand and moving to stand beside him. 

            "Ron and Hermione are trying to split us up."

            "What? Why?" Ethan asked with a confused frown.

            "I don't know," Harry sighed, staring into the dancing flames. "They keep making all these crazy accusations...but I know it's because I'm gay. Plus, the fact that my only relationships so far have been with Slytherins."

            "And they can't handle it," Ethan stated simply. "So, what did you say to them?"

            "I told them that since they can't handle the real me, then I didn't want anything more to do with them. It's over."

            "Good for you," Ethan smiled supportively. "You don't need them, you have me."

            Harry looked up and smiled weakly. "I don't know what I'd do if you weren't here."

            Ethan opened his arms and Harry gladly walked into the comforting hug. Harry sighed and relaxed in his embrace, resting his head on Ethan's shoulder and wrapping his arms around the slim waist. They stood quietly together for awhile until Harry finally pulled back and smiled up at him in unspoken gratitude. 

            Ethan leaned down and captured Harry's lips with his own, gently kissing the full lips beneath his own. After a moment's hesitation, Harry closed his eyes and returned the gentle pressure. Ethan tightened his hands  possessively on Harry's back and deepened the kiss, and Harry obligingly opened his mouth, making an appreciative noise in the back of his throat as their tongues met for the first time. 

            Ethan ran his hands up under Harry's jumper and stroked the naked skin beneath. Harry groaned quietly and pulled away to allow Ethan to lift his shirt over his head and toss it to the floor. They quickly resumed kissing, passionately running their hands over backs and through hair. 

            Ethan walked Harry backwards towards his bed and roughly pushed him onto it. Harry blinked in surprise, then shuffled backwards as Ethan removed his own shirt and crawled up, lying alongside him. Harry welcomed the taste of Ethan's mouth and skin under his lips as they entangled themselves in each other's arms and legs. He buried his hands in the soft, chocolate coloured hair and closed his eyes as Ethan began to kiss down his throat and over his collar bone. Suddenly, Ethan's hands were on his belt and unsnapping his trousers.

            Harry's eyes flew open. This was all happening too fast, it was still too soon, Draco...

            "No, wait." He released his hold on Ethan and tried to sit up.

            "What's wrong?" Ethan panted, his hands still frantically working the zip of Harry's trousers.

            "Please, stop," Harry said, trying to pull his legs out from under the other boy.

            "It's okay, pet," Ethan cooed soothingly. He crawled up and pushed Harry onto  his back once again, then began to kiss his lips to muffle his protests. 

            Harry jerked again as Ethan's hands moved back to his pants. "Stop!" he demanded loudly, pushing against Ethan's chest.

            The slap came so fast that he wouldn't have even known it happened if not for the sudden pain blinding the left side of his face. His hand flew to his cheek as he stared at Ethan in horror.

            "Oh, God," Ethan gasped. "I'm so sorry, love. I don't know what came over me. I'm so sorry. I don't know why..."

            Harry sat up slowly, his hand still pressed to his cheek.

            "Harry?" Ethan tentatively touched his shoulder. "You're shaking, are you cold?"

            Ethan reached out and pulled the heavy blanket from his bed and wrapped it around Harry's shoulders. "I'm so sorry, Harry. I didn't mean it. You know I love you, don't you, Harry?"

            Harry blinked and watched a tear slide down Ethan's cheek, he immediately felt bad for making him cry. "I know," he answered quietly. "I'm sorry, it was my fault. Don't be mad at me."

            "It's okay," Ethan breathed in relief. "I understand, it's too soon for you."

            "Yes," Harry nodded, glad that he understood and wasn't upset. "I'm sorry."

            "It's fine. Come here," Ethan beckoned.

            Harry leaned into Ethan's open arms and clung to the warm blanket still draped around him like a cocoon. 

            "Please stay for the night," Ethan asked softly. 

            Harry tensed.

            "Just to sleep," Ethan added hurriedly. "I just want to be near you."

            "Of course," Harry readily agreed, eager to make it up to him in any way possible.

            "I love you, Harry."

            Harry closed his eyes, knowing he didn't deserve to be loved and desperate to hold onto the only person left in his life that loved him in spite of it.


	17. Concealing the Truth

~A/N~ Sorry about the wait for this chapter, my inspiration decided to take a holiday and left me totally bereft of any imaginative thought. But, all better now. 'Thoughts and ideas are flowing like a mountain stream,' as JKR has just said about book 6. Anyway, I totally forgot about leaving a note about the strange chapter shuffling that I've been doing lately. I decided to condense a few of the pathetically short earlier chapters together to make them longer, and shorten the overall chapter count. So that explains that. I'd also just like to say, thanks for all the reviews, they truly make my day. I've never had so much swearing in my reviews, all thanks to the lovely comments about Ethan. JRainSW6 – Thank you, thank you, thank you! The hardest part about writing this story has been getting Harry to a place emotionally where he would simply accept the abuse, so your comments about the fact that it feels believable relieved my anxiety ridden brain quite a lot. Thank you!

apersonsreasoning – Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha..... I must say, very creative. Ethan does deserve a good peeing on. 

Alym – You're not the only cruel and evil person, so of course Harry is going to suffer more...lots more....hee hee.

plaintosee – Mmm....Draco as a knight in shining armour. Isn't that a pretty picture?

HogwartsSaiyajin – Hope there's enough Draco in this one for ya.

* Oh yeah, I forgot, I was going to ask if anyone here is an artist. Drawing, that is. There's a scene in this chapter that I would dearly love to see in picture form, but alas, I'm not that talented. I'll leave a note at the end to which scene I'm referring to and if anyone wants to, feel free to draw it and send it on over. 

**********************************************************************************************

           Harry refused to open his eyes the next morning, choosing instead to burrow a little deeper into the comforting warmth surrounding him. Unfortunately, his body refused to obey him and fall back asleep, the tiny sounds of an old castle dorm room suddenly intensifying and invading his peaceful cocoon. Along with the usual creaking and scratching came the sound of Ethan's even breathing from beside him.

            Harry cracked his eyes open and looked over at the sleeping boy. Ethan's chestnut hair was sprawled on the pillow under his head and his mouth was open slightly; quiet puffs of air escaping his parted lips. 

           Harry raised himself up on one elbow and watched him as he slept, oblivious to the quiet scrutiny. True to his word, Ethan had made no more attempts to force Harry into anything the night before. Harry had borrowed another pair of pyjamas and they had fallen asleep on separate sides of the bed.

           Harry sighed, realising that he suddenly needed to use the bathroom. He reluctantly climbed out of the extremely comfortable bed, the cold flagstones under his feet making him shiver as he ran across the room to the sanctuary of the plush bathroom mat. 

           As he was washing up, he glanced at his reflection in the mirror and started at the sight. A red welt streaked across his left cheekbone, and the surrounding skin was pink and slightly puffy.

           He winced and drew in a sudden hiss of air as he tentatively felt the irritated mark with his fingers. He reached for a nearby wash cloth and turned on the faucet, watching as the rush of water slowly turned icy cold. He immersed the white cloth under the stream and then raised his eyes back up to the mirror – Ethan was standing directly behind him.

          "Ah!" Harry screamed, dropping the cloth into the sink.

            Ethan laughed and wrapped his arms around Harry's waist from behind.

            "I'm sorry," he grinned in amusement. "I couldn't resist."

           "Don't ever do that again!" Harry gasped, holding a hand over his rapidly beating heart and glaring at Ethan through the mirror.

           "I won't," Ethan promised, barely concealing a smile. "I woke up and wondered where you'd gone off to, I was worried that you'd left. How are you feeling this morning?"

           "Fine," Harry answered automatically.

           Ethan smiled and tightened his hold. "Don't we make a handsome couple?" he asked, looking at their reflection.

           Harry glanced up at the image. "You always look great, I don't know why you would want to be with me. How do you manage to wake up looking like you've spent hours on your hair?"

           "It's not easy," Ethan laughed, delighted.

           "You'll have to teach me," Harry grumbled, inspecting his own wild hair with disgust.

          "Aw, I like your messy coiffure," Ethan smiled, rubbing the top of Harry's head.

            Ethan dropped his hand from Harry's hair and lightly ran his finger over the red mark on his left cheek. 

           Harry winced, but didn't pull away.

            "Sorry about this, love," Ethan said quietly, turning serious.

           "It's okay," Harry shrugged, dropping his eyes to the sink basin and watching the water swirl around the forgotten wash cloth.

           "Here, let me help you." Ethan reached down and picked up the soggy cloth, wringing it out and turning off the tap afterwards. He then lifted the cool compress to Harry's sore cheek and lightly patted the bruised skin.

            "Thanks," Harry mumbled, still staring into the sink.

            "It's okay about last night, Harry," Ethan said as he worked. "But I wouldn't have figured you for a tease."

            "I'm not...usually, I mean..." Harry flushed with embarrassment. "I didn't mean to stop, I did want to...at first..."

           "I understand, but people don't like to be led on," Ethan explained calmly.

            "I'm sorry," Harry apologized.

           "Hey, I said that it was okay," Ethan smiled, setting the cloth aside. "I know you didn't do it on purpose. I can wait."

           Harry nodded in understanding, a warped sense of love dictating his feelings as gratitude filled his heart. "Thanks. Not just for this, but for everything you've done for me and for being so understanding."

             "No problem," Ethan winked, ruffling Harry's tousled hair again. "What do you say we go get ourselves some breakfast?"

            "Sounds good," Harry smiled, brightening, as he slid his glasses back up on his nose. 

           "Good. How about after your last class of the day, I come and meet you and we can go to the library to do some homework together?"

           "Sure," Harry agreed with a nod.

           "Great."

                                                                                                * * * * * * * * * 

            Draco stared at his reflection with a thoughtful expression. Surely his life hadn't been this mundane before Harry had been a part of it?

           He was standing in the boy's sixth year bathroom, leaning on the edge of the sink and trying to find the answers to questions that had been plaguing him night and day. Going round and round his exhausted brain. They all centred around one Harry Potter and they all started with 'what if?'

           What if he _had_ denied his father and kept his relationship with Harry? What if he hadn't broken Harry's heart? The only person who truly knew him. What if he had broken Pansy's neck for trying to blackmail him? What if she hadn't found out? What if nobody had found out?

            Too many what if's.

           Draco shook his blond head and blinked, trying to snap himself out of the cul-de-sac of questions he seemed to be stuck in.

           He splashed some cold water on his face and ran his wet hands through his hair to smooth it out, the other boys in his year finally stumbling in and beginning to get ready for the day.

            Draco hurriedly finished and slipped out without talking to anyone. He really wasn't in the mood.

           The Great Hall was almost full by the time Draco finally wandered in and sat down with the rest of the Slytherins for breakfast. 

           As he reached for a raisin scone, he casually let his eyes look over to the Gryffindor table, trying to convince himself that he was just looking, no hidden meanings. He didn't want to see Harry. He didn't need to see Harry. 

            Who was he kidding?

           Harry certainly was easy to spot, sitting all alone at one end of the table, not one Gryffindor even glancing his way. He was the picture of morose, sitting with his cheek in his hand and absently pushing his food around his plate with his fork. 

           Draco carefully buttered his scone, repeating in his head over and over, 'I will not feel sorry for him...I will not feel sorry for him...'

           Who was he kidding?

           "I saw Potter leaving your room again this morning."

           Draco tilted his head and listened closely to what Vincent Balkwill was saying.

           "Yeah, so?" came Ethan's easy reply.

           "Well, that's twice I've seen him leave your room wearing different clothes than he came in with."

           A pause. Draco glanced up and saw Ethan smiling as he dipped into his porridge.

           "What can I say?" Ethan shrugged. "He just can't get enough."

           Vincent laughed. "The Golden Boy sure likes his fair share of bad boys. Who knew he had such a twisted streak in him? Oi, Malfoy!"

           Draco turned and tried to look as if he hadn't been listening all along. "What?"

            "Was Potter that way with you, too?"

           "What way?" Draco feigned confusion.

           "You know, gagging for it?" Vincent replied crudely.

           Draco rolled his eyes and turned away, ignoring the sound of Vincent's perverse laughter. He flicked his eyes over to Harry's hunched over figure and relaxed somewhat. He knew Harry wasn't that easy, he would never sleep with Ethan, whom he hardly knew, so soon. Harry just wasn't like that. 

            "So how was he, Ethan?" Vincent asked loudly. "On a scale of one to ten?"

           "I am not answering that," Ethan sniffed. "That is none of your business."

            "He can't answer that because he doesn't know," Draco thought to himself with satisfaction.

           "Oh, come on," Vincent whined.

          "No, we really don't need to know that," Blaise Zabini put in firmly.

           There was a chorus of agreement from around them.

           "You don't want to know?" Vincent asked incredulously.

            "No," Blaise said in disgust. "But I'm beginning to wonder about why you do, though."

           Vincent sent him a withering look. 

           Draco laughed along with everyone else. He glanced over at Ethan and found the older boy looking straight back at him. It was somewhat disconcerting.

            Ethan smirked and turned to Vincent. "I will say that Harry Potter has the cutest little freckle on his right hip."

           Draco froze.

           "Ew!" Pansy exclaimed. "That is way more than I need to know about Potter's body."

           Blaise wrinkled his nose and pushed his plate away.

           Everyone laughed.

            Draco suddenly found it hard to swallow. How could Harry have slept with someone else already?

            The rest of the morning seemed to race by in a haze, the unpleasant image of Harry and Ethan having sex firmly imprinted in his mind, until suddenly it was the last class of the day. Potions. With Harry. 

           Draco burned with anger, at Harry and himself. Why was Harry's behaviour suddenly so radically different? How could he sleep with Ethan? And why was he having such a hard time detaching himself from Harry? 

           Those questions would just have to be added to the ever growing pile. 

           Snape assigned them a new, somewhat complicated, potion to do in pairs. 

           Draco started to make his way over to Blaise, when he was pulled aside by Snape.

            "Sorry, Mr Malfoy," he spoke quietly. "But I need you to partner, Potter. It seems no one in his house wishes to work with him."

          "Either do I," Draco protested.

           Snape gave him a stern look

           "Alright, alright," Draco grumbled.

           Snape squeezed his shoulder and looked over at Harry, who was sitting alone at the front of the Gryffindor side of the room.

           "Mr Potter, come and partner, Draco."

           There were a few oo's and ah's from the Slytherins, and the Gryffindors looked on interestedly, despite themselves. 

           Harry took a deep breath, gathered his books and bag, then trooped over to Draco's table and sat down, careful not to look directly at him.

           "Get to work," Snape snapped to the class. "You have one hour."

            Draco retrieved their supplies and sat back down. Harry set up the equipment. They worked in silence for the first half hour, not even making eye-contact.

           The rest of the class was disappointed, and eventually stopped watching the pair for any fireworks. 

           Draco just wanted to leave. He hated feeling uncomfortable. He glanced up at the clock, and in doing so, saw the bruise on Harry's left cheek.

           "What happened to your face?" he asked automatically, unaware of the concern in his voice.

           Harry jumped and looked over in surprise. "What do you care?"

           "I don't," Draco replied indifferently.

           "Then don't ask."

           Draco could feel the anger rising again. "I was just curious."

           "Since when did you care about my well-being?" Harry asked icily, keeping his eyes glued to the potion he was mixing.

           "Since when did you become such a slut?"

           "What is that supposed to mean?" Harry demanded, abandoning his work to look over.

           "It means, it seems anyone can get into your pants these days."

           Harry's eyes blazed in anger. "What the fuck would you know?"

           "I have eyes, Harry," Draco retorted, not even noticing the name slip.

           "Yeah? Well, Ethan is ten times the person you are and better in bed than you'll ever be!"

           Draco pushed back his chair roughly and stood up, Harry doing the same. 

            They stood face to face, fists clenched at their sides and glaring each other down.

           "Potter! Malfoy!" 

           Professor Snape strode over and pushed them apart. 

           The class watched with baited breath.

            "Out in the hallway now," he ordered. "I'll deal with you after class."

           Harry promptly turned on his heel and stormed out.

           "But-" Draco started.

           "I said, I'll deal with you _after class_," Snape repeated angrily.

           Draco sighed and slowly walked out of the classroom, closing the door behind him. He found Harry leaning against the wall, fuming, his arms firmly crossed over his chest. Draco walked over to the opposite wall and glared at him.

            "You've ruined my fucking life," Draco grumbled.

           "Me? _Me?_" Harry exclaimed, somewhat hysterically. "Who dumped who?"

           "Who slept with the first person they found afterwards?"

           "What does that matter to you?" Harry demanded, pushing himself off the wall. "You don't own me anymore."

            "I never _owned_ you," Draco sneered, stepping forward. "You were a burden."

           "You seemed to enjoy it at the time," Harry snapped.

           "Slut."

           "Coward."

           Suddenly there was no more room between them, they were face to face again, the tension heavy in the air between them.

            "I don't know what I ever saw in you," Draco whispered vehemently.

            "I hate you."

           "I hate you more."

            Draco grabbed Harry by the front of his robes and glared at him.

            "What are you going to do?" Harry challenged. "Hit me?"

           "No." Draco pulled him forward and crushed his mouth against Harry's.

           Harry spluttered with shock and tried to break free.

           Draco closed his eyes and placed a hand on Harry's cheek to keep him still. Harry could feel his defences weakening as the taste and feel of Draco's all too familiar lips kissed him once again.

            Draco released his hold on Harry's robes and stepped back half a step, breathing heavily and watching Harry's face intently.

           Harry licked his lips in wonderment and stared at him, then stepped forwards and pressed his lips to Draco's once more. He wrapped his arms around Draco and held him tightly. It all felt so wonderful, like a dream.

           Then Draco pushed him away.

            "No, Harry," he panted. "We can't."

            Harry almost sobbed at the sudden loss. He couldn't believe Draco was doing this to him again.

            A sudden gasp made the two boys turn their heads and look up the hallway.

            Ethan was staring at them with a hurt look on his face.

            "Ethan, I..." Harry stammered.

            Ethan turned and ran up the hallway.

            Harry glanced at Draco, then took off after him.

            Draco slumped against the wall and slid down to the floor. A whole new pile of questions spinning round his head.

           Harry caught up to Ethan at the end of the corridor and put a hand on his shoulder.

           "Ethan?" he started gently.

            Ethan whipped around and punched Harry directly in the face, breaking his glasses and sending him flying onto the floor.

           Harry clutched his bloodied nose and looked up at Ethan apprehensively.

            "How could you, Harry?" Ethan demanded. 

           "I...I'm sorry," Harry said sadly. "I don't know why..."

            "I don't want to see you anymore."

            "No, no please." Harry scrambled to his feet. "I'm so sorry. It didn't mean anything. Please don't leave me, too."

           Ethan turned his back on Harry and sighed.

            "Please?"

            "Alright," Ethan finally accepted. "But you must promise me never to speak with Malfoy again, or even look at him. You know how I get."

            "I promise," Harry agreed instantly, blood still flowing freely from his nose and a cut on his cheek. "Just don't leave me."

            "You know you don't deserve it..."

           "I know," Harry lowered his eyes guiltily. 

           "Alright, go to the library and I'll meet you there in a few minutes."

           Harry nodded, picked up his broken glasses, and wiped his face on his sleeve as he obediently made his way directly to the library. 

            Class was over now and students were filing into the corridors around him. He hid his face in his sleeve and ducked through the library door.

           He was worried about Snape's reaction when he saw that he had left, but there was nothing he could do about it now, this was more important.

            He roamed between the rows of books and looked through the section on charms. Squinting his eyes to see without the aid of his glasses.

           He couldn't believe that Ethan had forgiven him so easily. He really didn't deserve him. He cursed himself for letting Draco, no, Malfoy now, make a fool of him again. 

           No more, he vowed.

           Harry found the book he was looking for and pulled it from the shelf, then settled at a table near the back and flipped it open. He ran his finger down the table of contents and stopped at the chapter he was interested in, chapter thirteen – 'Concealment Charms.'

            He absently rubbed at the blood drying on his face as he memorized the simple spell.

****************************************************************************

           ~ Whew! Longest chapter yet, go me! Anyhoo, the scene I was hoping to have a drawing done of was the scene near the beginning where Harry and Ethan are in the bathroom together. A pic of Ethan standing behind Harry with his arms wrapped around his waist from behind and looking into the mirror at their reflection, and Harry looking despondently down into the sink. I would absolutely love it and be eternally grateful. Anyone? Pretty please? I'll give you a chocolate covered Draco...


	18. Learning How To Bleed

_ I'm about to break and can't stop this ache,  
Getting nothing in return_  
_What did I do to deserve_  
_The pain of this slow burn _

  
  
Harry stumbled into the Gryffindor bathroom and tiredly rubbed his eyes beneath the frames of his glasses. He automatically pointed his wand behind him at the door and muttered a locking spell to ensure his privacy as he made his way over to the mirrors. 

He leaned forward towards his reflection and stared straight back into those accusing green eyes.

It had been over a month since he had stood in this same position in Ethan's bathroom, but to him it felt like a lifetime. A lifetime of sinking lower and lower into the black hole of abuse, of the slowly dwindling moments of tenderness and love given to him by his so-called lover, and of the sensation of being drowned in a pool of shame and deceit.

He grasped onto the moments that Ethan showed him kindness and care, and held onto them through the bouts of pain and cruelty. The good times becoming fewer and farther between.

Harry raised his arm and touched the tip of his wand to his temple.

"Finite Incantatem."

The sudden change in his appearance was startling; his previously unmarred face was now adorned with a cut and swollen lip, a black eye, and a scabbed over gash on his forehead. His eyes looked far too big for his pale face, streaked with angry red lines and an emptiness that spoke volumes.

Harry removed his glasses and watched as his reflection was reduced to a blurry mass of colours, no distinguishable marks to glare at him in accusation and remind him of what his life had become.

He felt the warm trickle of tears slip down his cheeks as he stood alone in the large empty bathroom.

He felt desperate, and yet ashamed and embarrassed at the same time. He knew that this...relationship was going to have to come to an end, yet on some level he didn't want to let go. As twisted and warped as the love he was receiving was, it was still the only kind of attention he was getting.

He slipped his glasses back into place and his vision became sharp and focused once more. Frankly, he preferred the distorted version of life rather than the one he was now staring at.

He lifted his wand and once again reinstated the concealment charm.

"When did my life become such a lie?" he asked himself aloud.

With a final sigh he wiped his eyes and turned away from the mirror. He unlocked the door with a flick of his wrist and entered the dorm room.

He walked across to his bed and grabbed the black cloak that was draped unceremoniously across it. As he roughly pulled it on his gaze settled on Ron's unmade bed and a sharp stab of regret struck his heart. His eyes darkened with sadness as he thought of the coldness that now existed between him and his former best friend. A separation that he was once glad of but now bothered him more than anything.

He didn't realize how much he would miss his two closest friends until they weren't there for him anymore, that comfort and chance to work out your problems through lengthy conversations and sympathetic hugs was now gone. A safety he missed greatly.

Harry shook his head and forced himself to turn away and leave the room.

He headed down the staircase into the Gryffindor common room and felt the familiar iciness directed towards him from the students gathered there. He ignored their glares and whispers and headed for the portrait hole.

Just as he reached it, the painting swung back and revealed Hermione standing in the corridor with an armload of books.

Hermione looked up, startled at Harry's unexpected appearance and shifted her books nervously.

Harry found himself staring transfixed into her eyes. He had forgotten how much comfort he used to find those warm brown depths. For a moment he let down his guard and the pleading desperation for help came shining through. He opened his mouth but no sound would come.

Hermione saw that Harry was about to speak to her for the first time since their argument. She saw the lost and helpless look in his eyes, and immediately prayed that he would finally tell her everything.

But Harry's mask fell back into place after a moment of indecision and he stepped past her into the corridor.

"Harry?" she called after him.

Harry's shoulders tensed as he stopped and turned to face her.

"Erm..." There was so much she wanted to say - what happened to you? Why won't you talk to us anymore? Are you alright? Why don't you eat? Why don't you sleep? Why won't you let us in? She felt like crying in frustration as she stood watching him, that mask of indifference firmly planted on his face. She wanted to rip it off and expose whatever it was that was haunting him.

But the only thing that came out was, "good luck in the game today."

Harry licked his lips and hesitated for the briefest of seconds before giving a quick nod and turning away again.

Hermione watched him walk away then stepped over the threshold into the common room and quickly strode over to Ron to tell him everything.

Harry leaned against the wall once he was out of sight of Hermione and let out a dry sob. He had teetered on the edge of telling her everything in that one moment, but the thought of telling her what Ethan was doing to him had kept his mouth firmly shut. Hermione probably wouldn't have listened to him anyway after the way he had treated her.

He was trapped and he knew it. The walls he had so carefully built up around himself not only kept people out, but also prevented him from reaching out to them as well.

At least she had wished him good luck in the game. She was the only Gryffindor that had.

Harry straightened up and glanced out the window, it was nearly time for him to get dressed for the big game. He made his way towards the Gryffindor changing rooms and mentally prepared himself for the task ahead.

  
**. . . **

  
  
Harry tried to catch Ethan's eye as he flew in slow circles away from the fast paced action of the game, but no luck, the older boy was focussing his entire attention on the game at hand.

Harry gave up and narrowed his eyes as he searched for the tell-tale flicker of gold that held his team's fate in its wings.

The score was in a dead tie, with forty points to each team.

Hermione and Ron watched Harry from the stands below. Ron had listened to Hermione, but still wasn't ready to forgive Harry for all he had said. He wanted Harry to speak first, preferably an apology, _and then_ he would be willing to talk.

Hermione, on the other hand, was concerned for Harry, and that concern was over-riding any other hurt or angry feelings that she might have been harbouring. She had seen that look in Harry's eyes, she knew her friend needed help and was too worried or too proud to ask for it. She decided that she would have to be the one to speak first and would try and talk to him tonight.

Her attention was quickly reverted back to the game above as the students around her gasped and pointed excitedly at the sudden appearance of the golden snitch.

Draco watched with baited breath as the two seekers streaked across the pitch towards the flittering gold ball. He never ceased to be amazed at the agility and speed of Quidditch players, their fearlessness and quick thinking causing him to shake his head in wonderment. He missed playing, and it hurt to watch that bastard out there playing his position, but it had been his idea to quit and now he was stuck with it.

At least here in the crowd he could watch Harry without anyone taking notice. It was his guilty pleasure.

Harry grit his teeth and lowered his body to the handle, urging his broom to move faster. He wanted to win this game for his house, to make up in some small way for everything that he had done.

He could feel Ethan coming up close behind him.

He kept his eyes glued to the snitch and deftly followed it's every turn, matching it speed for speed. Ethan finally closed the gap between them and was flying directly beside him. Harry refused to even glance at him as he flew after the target.

The two boys reached out their arms at the same time and stretched towards the tiny flying ball.

Ethan swerved slightly and knocked his broom into Harry. Harry quickly recovered and with one final thrust of speed, pushed Ethan's hand out of the way and grabbed the snitch in his sweaty palm.

He grinned and lifted his arm in triumph, pumping his hand that held the still fluttering snitch over and over into the air. His team all cheered and smiled, seeming to forget for the moment that they were supposed to hate the Boy-Who-Lived.

Harry's smile immediately fell as he looked over at Ethan.

Ethan's eyes were glaring furiously at him, his jaw tight and tense with repressed anger.

Harry swallowed and let the snitch fall from his hand. His heart hammered in his chest and he felt a chill run through his body.

He'd never seen Ethan that angry, and he had never been as afraid of him as he was now.

Hermione snatched up her Omnoculars and trained them to Harry's floating form. She bit her lip as she saw the look on his face. There was only one word for it – scared. She tried to see what he was looking at, but he suddenly turned and headed for the grass below. She continued to watch as he quickly made his way towards the dressing rooms.

"Did you see that, Ron?"

"What?" Ron asked, rubbing his gloved hands together for warmth.

"The look on Harry's face just now, he looked scared."

"Of what?"

"I don't know." Hermione frowned.

"I think you're being paranoid." Ron smirked.

"I'm telling you, there's something going on..."

"I told you, if he wants our help then he's going to have to ask for it."

"Ron-" Hermione sighed.

"Come on, let's go."

Hermione gave up and followed Ron from the emptying stands, silently vowing to find Harry herself and make him talk to her.

  
  
** . . .**

  
  
Harry trudged wearily towards the broom shed. His hair still wet from his shower and his eyes downcast as he thought about Ethan. He was vainly trying to put off seeing the other boy tonight, taking as much time as he could to shower, dress, and now put his broom away.

He sighed for the hundredth time and unlocked the shed with his wand.

Someone suddenly grabbed him from behind and shoved him forwards into the darkened room.

Harry gasped in surprise and tripped over the uneven floorboards as he stumbled inside, his broom falling unnoticed to the ground along with his wand. His attacker quickly shut the door behind them and locked it with an ominous click.

"Harry."

Harry closed his eyes and almost cried.

"Harry, why would you do something like that?" Ethan asked quietly, his voice the only sound in the pitch black room.

"I...I was just playing the game," Harry answered hesitantly.

"You beat me on purpose."

"No, I mean...I-"

Harry gasped again as Ethan grabbed the front of his robes and shoved him back against the wall.

"Why would you humiliate me like that, Harry?" Ethan hissed angrily.

Harry felt a spark of anger at the unfairness of Ethan's words. "It's my job to catch the snitch, Ethan. I'm not going to just let you win."

Ethan's eyes flared in the darkness. He reached back and punched Harry in the stomach. Harry groaned and attempted to bend over to ease the pain, but Ethan slammed his head back against the solid wall.

He saw sparks before eyes as his head made contact with the wood.

"You think I need you to 'help' me win?" Ethan growled.

Harry closed his eyes and prayed for it to be over soon.

"Answer me!"

He kept his eyes closed as he replied. "No."

"That's right." Ethan accompanied his exclamation with another slam of his head against the wall.

Harry groaned and bit his tongue to keep from whimpering.

"Looks like I'm going to have to teach you a lesson so that you'll remember the next time."

Harry cried out as Ethan kicked him in the shin, then the stomach, and finally his head, as he sank to the floor in pain.

His body was bombarded with blows and kicks as he lay curled in on himself on the floor. Ethan hauled him back up and pushed him against the wall again, placing one hand tightly around his throat.

Harry choked and desperately clawed at Ethan's hand in a panic. Ethan sneered and kicked the side of Harry's knee with as much force as he could.

Harry howled in pain and fell awkwardly to the ground. He heard a loud crack as his knee became dislocated. He sat up and clutched at his deformed knee, sobbing, his hands shaking.

Ethan stared down at him with disgust. "You're pathetic, Potter."

Harry looked up through his tears and tried to make out Ethan's expression in the dark.

"You were so easy to break," he went on. "And now look at you, reduced to a crying wreck on the floor. I thought you were supposed to be a hero? You're weak and worthless, Potter, everyone can see that."

Harry gulped and looked down at the floor, the tears still falling from his eyes, his glasses lying broken and forgotten on the floor beside him.

Ethan knelt down and lifted his chin with one finger.

"Oh, and Harry? If you tell anyone about this, I'll kill them and then you. And believe me, I will find out."

Harry squeezed his eyes shut and nodded in understanding.

"Good, boy." Ethan smiled.

The last thing Harry remembered was feeling Ethan grab his arm, wrenching it behind his back, and the sickening snap of a breaking bone before he mercifully blacked out.


	19. Numb

                                                                                     ~ _All these walls are caving' in,_

_                                                                                            I can't stop my sufferin'_

_                                                                                      I hate to show I've lost control_

_                                                                           'Cause I keep going right back to the one thing_

_                                                                                       that I need to walk away from ~        _

          Hermione stood fidgeting anxiously outside the Gryffindor portrait hole. The corridor had long since emptied from the after game excitement, the students retreating to their respective common rooms to continue the celebration inside.

          No one else seemed to notice the absence of the Gryffindor seeker, except for Hermione. Or maybe they just didn't care.

          Hermione wrung her hands and bit her lip when she saw the darkening sky outside the nearby window. She tapped her foot in agitation and looked at her watch for the hundredth time, then sighed and decided to look for Harry on her own, starting with the dungeons.

          A few Slytherins were still hanging about the dimly lit passageways, glaring menacingly at Hermione as she passed by. She silently cursed herself for stupidly taking her Gryffindor flag from the game along with her instead of dropping it off in her room first. 

          She rounded another corner and searched the milling students for Harry. She couldn't see him anywhere, but did see the tall figure of a certain seventh year Slytherin walking away from her.

          This was her chance to hopefully get some answers.

          "Ethan!"

          Ethan turned in surprise and stared at her as she jogged over.

          "Sorry to bother you." she smiled apologetically, hoping that Harry hadn't told Ethan about the things she'd accused him of.

          "Not at all." Ethan casually slid his hands into his pockets and returned her smile.

          Hermione paused, thrown by Ethan's kind attitude. Either he was a brilliant actor or she was wrong about him.

          "Do you know where Harry is?" she asked.

          "No, I'm afraid not," Ethan answered, with a shake of his head. "He was supposed to meet me after the game and he never showed up. I just assumed that he was off celebrating with you guys."

          "No. At least, Ididn't see him there."

          "If you find him, could you tell him that I'll be in my room later if he wants to come by?"

          "Sure." Hermione agreed pleasantly.

          "Thanks, see ya."

          Ethan turned and continued on to the Slytherin dorms.

          Hermione left the dungeons as quickly as possible and stood looking around the Entrance Hall with her hands on her hips. She made up her mind to check the Gryffindor changing rooms, as they were Harry's last known location.

          A frown creased her face as she thought back on Ethan's answer, something didn't make sense. Ethan had said that he figured Harry was off celebrating a Gryffindor victory with the rest of his house, but he should've known that Harry wasn't  speaking to them and vice versa. 

          "Maybe he thought that we'd all made up," she reasoned. "Don't jump to conclusions, he did look concerned about Harry's disappearance."

          She continued to carry on a debate with herself as she approached the changing rooms and pushed open the red and gold door belonging to Gryffindor. 

          "Harry?" she called out.

          The moonlight was streaming through the large windows, illuminating the eerily quiet room. The lockers stood open, bits of clothing and equipment piled haphazardly inside. A steady drip was coming from the shower room as one of the taps leaked out tiny droplets of water onto the tiled floor. 

          Hermione crossed the empty room to the window and leaned on the ledge to gaze outside, her curly hair falling to frame her worried face. The grounds below were deserted and still under the glow of the moon. 

          Just as she was about to give up and go to bed, she spotted the broom shed standing in the shadows at the side of the pitch. 

          She gave a shrug and decided to check it out.

          The outside temperature was extremely cold, laced with a biting wind that whipped around her as she strode across the grass to her destination.

          As she neared the dark wooden structure, an uneasy feeling crawled up her spine, causing her heart to hammer in trepidation.

          She pulled out her wand and cautiously placed one hand against the rough wooden door. It swung open with little effort and a beam of moonlight fell across the floor, illuminating a single fallen broomstick and a wand. Hermione quickly used her own wand to ignite the candles lining the dusty walls.

          She stepped into the storage shed with her heart in her throat and tore her eyes from the discarded objects to look around.

          "Harry!" she cried in horror.

          Her worst fears were confirmed as she rushed forward and dropped to her knees beside his unmoving form. He was unconsciously slumped up against the far wall, his wrists locked together with a glowing green binding spell.

          Hermione immediately checked him over for any injuries, discovering with a gasp his dislocated knee and, what she suspected, was a broken arm.

          "Harry?" she whispered fervently. "Harry, its Hermione. Please wake up."

          She stroked his cheek and felt him stir slightly at her touch.

          "Harry?" she tried again, a little louder.

          Harry shifted and moaned quietly in distress.

          "Oh, Harry," Hermione sighed under her breath. "What's happening to you?"

          Harry moaned again and turned his head to one side, his eyes remaining closed. Hermione sniffed and blinked back tears as she reached out to gently push back the damp tendrils of hair lying across his forehead.

          "Harry?"

          A dazed pair of emerald eyes fluttered open to squint up at her.

          "Harry." Hermione smiled in relief.

          "'Mione?" Harry mumbled questioningly.

          "Yes, now just lie still so I can release this binding spell."

          Hermione raised her wand and pointed it at him. 

          "Finite Incantatem," she cast confidently.

          Her wand slipped from her fingers and fell to the floor as she covered her mouth in shock. She had unwittingly released Harry's  concealment charm as well as freeing his bound wrists, revealing the horrific appearance of his badly beaten face.

          She stared with wide eyes at the black eye, the multiple cuts and abrasions, split lip, and ugly mottled bruising decorating his face.

          Harry gasped and sat bolt upright, trying to shuffle away from her, but cried out in pain as he clutched his damaged knee with one hand. 

          "Harry..." Hermione spoke gently, trying not  to scare him off. "Let me help you."

          Harry shook his head in refusal.

          "Please..."

          "No," he managed to gasp out.

          "Who did this to you?" 

          Harry swallowed and looked longingly towards the exit.

          "Harry, you have to tell some one."

          "No one did it to me," Harry answered, hoping that she would just let it drop. "I had...an accident."

          "And tied yourself up afterwards?" Hermione pointed out.

          "Just forget it. I'm fine."

          "Was it, Ethan?" Hermione asked quietly.

          Harry pressed his lips together and glared at her, the throbbing in his  knee becoming almost unbearable.

          "You can tell me, Harry," she pushed.

          "No, it wasn't, Ethan."

          "Then who-"

          "I already told you, it was an accident," Harry said angrily, the pain adding to his fury.

          Hermione frowned and felt helpless and frustrated, wanting to embrace him and wring his neck at the same time.

          "Why are you covering for him?"

          "Ethan didn't touch me," Harry lied.

          "Then who? And don't give me that accident story again, I know that's not true."

          "It doesn't matter. Just forget it."

          "Harry-"

          "No! Leave me alone."

          Hermione regarded him silently for a minute. "At least let me take you to Madam Pomfrey."

          "No."

          "Harry," she sighed in exasperation.

          "I said, no," Harry scowled.

          "But you're hurt."

          "I'll recover."

          Harry grimaced as he cradled his broken arm to his chest and tried to ignore the immense pain emanating from his knee.

          "Will you let _me_ help?" Hermione pleaded.

          Harry looked at her and thought it over, knowing he would never be able to make it out of there on his own.

          "Please?" she added, trying desperately to convince him.

          Harry finally nodded and removed a shaking hand from his knee. Hermione crawled closer and chewed her bottom lip as she stared down at his leg in thought.

          "I'm going to have to rip a hole in your trousers," she informed him.

          "It's okay," Harry said, trying to steady his breathing.

          Hermione picked up a shard of glass from Harry's broken and discarded glasses and used it to poke a hole in the fabric covering his disfigured knee. She then tossed it aside and pulled the fabric apart with a loud tearing sound, exposing the bare skin beneath.

          She shook her head sadly at the sight, but made no comment. Harry's knee cap was out of place, pushing out the side of his leg and stretching the discoloured skin around it.

          "I'm going to have to straighten your leg."

          "No..." Harry gasped in alarm. "You can't...it hurts too much..."

          "It'll be worse of you don't. The longer it's out of place, the more long term damage you'll do."

          Harry squeezed his hands into fists and closed his eyes, tiny  beads of sweat appearing on his forehead as he swallowed nervously.

          "Ready?" Hermione asked.

          "Do it," Harry bit out between clenched teeth.

          Hermione steeled herself and took a hold of his lower thigh and ankle. She took a deep breath and pushed down on Harry's bent leg in one swift motion.

          Harry yelled and almost blacked out from the pain. He quickly covered his aching knee with his one good hand and drew in shaky gulps of air.

          "Alright?" Hermione asked, wincing sympathetically.

          Harry nodded shortly.

          "You'll have to get Madam Pomfrey to fix your arm, I don't know how."

          Harry sighed and stared transfixed at his swollen knee. 

          "Alright, I'll go," he conceded.

          "Good." Hermione smiled in relief.

          She got to her feet and helped Harry to stand,  resting all of his weight on one leg.

          "I'll get your wand for you," Hermione offered.

          She walked over and leaned Harry's Firebolt against the wall, before picking up his wand.

          "Thanks," Harry accepted stiffly.

          Supporting him as she went, Hermione began to slowly lead Harry out into the night towards the school. Their progress was slow as he hobbled along beside his ex-best friend.

          Harry felt the threatening prickle of tears as he secretly revelled in the comfort of Hermione's supportive arms and  encouraging words. All in spite of  the fact that he had not that long ago hurled insults at her in a fit of anger.

          Hermione desperately tried to think of a way to get Harry to confide in her, but could still sense reluctance in the brunette by her side.

          Harry carefully limped up the staircase to the corridor leading to the infirmary. The pair stopped outside the door and Harry let go of her to put a hand on the door knob.

          "You don't need to come in with me," he said distantly.

          "Are you sure?"

          "Yes, thank you for your help."

          "Okay," Hermione answered uncertainly.

          Harry flashed her a tight-lipped smile, then turned and pushed through the door.

          Hermione watched the door click shut behind him, then slowly walked back to Gryffindor tower, knowing that it would be a long time before she fell asleep that night.

          Harry leaned against the closed door and removed his wand from his pocket. He immediately placed the cool wood against  his temple and set the concealment charm back in place. He then set his jaw in determination  and entered Madam Pomfrey's office without showing even a trace of a limp.

          "Mr Potter," Madam Pomfrey exclaimed in surprise from behind her  desk.

          "Sorry to bother you..."

          "Is there something you need?" she asked with a motherly smile.

          "It's just...I've broken my glasses and I don't have another pair."

          "That's no problem, I can make you up a new pair in no time. How did you manage to break them?"

          Harry trailed behind her as she led the way into the medical supply room across the hall.

          "Erm, during Quidditch," Harry lied.

          Madam Pomfrey 'tutted' and shook her head in disapproval, muttering something about barbaric traditions as she sorted through the student files.

          Harry leaned against one of the shelves and rested  the toe of his foot on the ground to ease his discomfort. He painfully manoeuvred his broken arm so that his hand was in his pocket, the position making his arm appear less suspicious.

          "Wait a minute!"

          Harry looked up at Madam Pomfrey in alarm.

          "How do you feel about letting me magically fix your eyesight? I don't usually perform the procedure on students, but you're always breaking them due to your rather, er...dangerous life."

          "No glasses?" Harry said in amazement. "I don't know, I've had them all my life..."

          "Well, why don't you try it for a few days while I make you a new pair of glasses? If you're not happy, I can easily reverse it," she suggested.

          "Okay," Harry decided, feeling a little thrill of excitement at the prospect of a glasses-free life.

          "Just keep your eyes open and hold still, dear."

          "Now?" Harry exclaimed in surprise.

          "It's a very simple charm," Poppy smiled.

          The matronly nurse stepped over and lifted her wand to cast the powerful spell; a pale, blue light shone out from the tip into Harry's eyes and the thin beam altered the shape of his irises slightly to improve his vision to near perfect. It was all over in seconds.

          "How does that feel?"

          Harry blinked a few times and his face split into a grin as he looked around  in amazement.

          Madam Pomfrey chuckled and glanced down at his torn trousers, noticing the bruised and swollen knee beneath.

          "I suppose that's from Quidditch as well?" she asked.

          Harry looked down at his knee. "Yeah...Quidditch."

          "Do you want me to take a look at it?"

          "No," Harry answered hurriedly. "I just banged it a little."

          "Would you like some pain reliever potions?"

          Harry tried not to let the extreme relief he felt at her words  show as he answered. "Alright."

          He watched her open up a large  cupboard and remove a tiny vial of purple liquid.

          "Here you go, Harry," she smiled as she handed it over. Harbouring a soft spot for the famous Gryffindor and feeling a motherly sense of protectiveness for him.

          "Thank you," Harry smiled.

          "I'll let you know when your glasses are ready, then you can tell me whether you've decided to keep you new eye-sight or not."

          Harry tried to keep up with her as she showed him to the door, his stomach churning nauseously from the building pain.

          "Take care, Mr Potter."

          Harry waved goodbye, not trusting himself to open his mouth.

          He left the hospital wing and leaned against the wall for fifteen minutes, then slowly started off for the blessed comfort of his bed.

          He arrived at the Fat Lady pale and shaking.

          "Ambulo absisto," he gasped out the password quietly.

          Hermione was still awake and sitting with Ron by the fire. They immediately stopped talking as Harry entered.

          Harry felt a flicker of annoyance. "Real subtle, guys," he commented sarcastically, forcing himself to once again work through the pain and walk without a visible limp.

          Ron glanced at Hermione as if to say, 'See? He's still an arrogant prick.'

          Hermione patted his hand and whispered for him to stay put. She got up and ran to meet Harry as he started climbing the stairs to his room.

          "Harry?"

          "I don't really feel like chatting," Harry expelled tiredly. 

          "What did Madam Pomfrey say?"

          "Look," Harry turned to face her. "Thank you for helping me, but can we just go back to the way things were?"

          "You mean, back to being rude and throwing insults?" 

          "Just pretend I don't exist and we'll get along fine."

          With that, Harry turned and stiffly made his way up the remainder of the stairs alone.

          "Harry, wait!" Hermione called up to him.

          He paused on the landing.

          "Ethan told me to tell you that he'll be in his room tonight if you want to see him later."

          Harry was glad he was facing away from her as he closed his eyes in fear. He snapped them open as something suddenly dawned on him; Ethan had left him tied up in the shed and if he wasn't still there in the morning, then he'll know that some one helped him escape. It wouldn't take him long to work out that it was Hermione, and that would put her in danger. The last thing he wanted to do was put his friends, (or ex-friends), in danger, which is what he'd always tried to avoid throughout his action-packed life.

          Harry turned and retreated back down the stairs, watching Hermione out of the corner of his eye.

          "Thanks for the message," he said in passing.

          "Your welcome," Hermione replied sadly. "Remember, you can always talk to me anytime you want."

          Harry nodded and stepped through the portrait hole. 

          As soon as he was safely out in the corridor, he uncorked his vial of pain reliever potion and downed half of it in one go. He closed his eyes and almost whimpered in relief as a numbing sensation spread throughout his entire body.

          He straightened up and found it a lot easier to walk as he went back to spend the rest of the night in the shed where Hermione had found him.

                                                                             *        *        *        *        *        *        *        *          *                           

          Hermione sat back down next to Ron and turned sad eyes towards him.

          "We have to help him."

          "But he's still acting like a  prat," Ron said, unconvinced. "And he looked just fine to me."

          "Well, Madam Pomfrey healed his arm and knee, and he's obviously put that concealment charm back on to hide his face. Don't you  see, Ron? He's hiding everything. He's in so much pain..."

          "And you think it's Ethan?"

          "I think so. Somebody definitely beat him up pretty badly tonight."

          Ron looked towards the closed portrait and  came to a decision.

          "So, what are we going to do?"

          "You're going  to help?" Hermione asked hopefully.

          "Of  course," Ron shrugged. "He may be an insufferable prick, but no one deserves to suffer in silence like that. Well, maybe, Malfoy."

          Hermione threw her arms around Ron's neck and promptly burst into tears.

          Ron patted her back awkwardly. "What's  wrong?"

          She pulled back and sniffed. "I was so sure that you were going to say no."

          Ron smiled and handed her a handkerchief. 

          "And don't say that about, Malfoy."

          "Why not?" Ron asked, puzzled.

          "Because we're going to get him to help us."

          "What!?"

          "I know he and Harry were happy together. I mean, remember when we found them-"

          "Stop! No, I don't want to  remember," Ron exclaimed with a cringe.

          Hermione rolled her eyes in exasperation. "Anyway, Harry was happy, happier than I'd ever seen him, when they were together. And I'm guessing that Malfoy is nursing a broken heart as well, no matter how hard he tries not to show it."

          Ron wrinkled his nose in disgust.

          "Ron, you didn't see him lying on that floor, bleeding and broken. And how frightened he was when he saw that I knew about his concealment charm. He's not the Harry we used  to know anymore..."

          Hermione broke off and wiped the tears from her eyes.

          Ron immediately softened and put a comforting arm around her.

          "I'm afraid we're going to lose him," she choked into his shoulder.

          "What do you mean?" Ron asked in concern.

          "He told me to pretend that he doesn't exist. What if he really _doesn't_ want to exist anymore?"

          Ron squeezed her gently and pulled back to look into her tear stained face. "Okay, we'll talk to Malfoy tomorrow."

          Hermione smiled in relief, and they spent the rest of the night devising an ambush attack on Draco.

                                                                             *        *        *        *        *        *        *        *          *                 

          "What the fuck!?"

          Draco swore in surprise during lunch break the next day as someone grabbed him from behind and threw a cloak over his head. He struggled angrily as he was forcibly herded into a side corridor.

          The cloak was lifted and he gaped in fury at the sight of Hermione and  Ron standing in front of him - wands drawn.

          "What the hell do you think you're doing?" he demanded.

          "Go  keep a lookout, Ron," Hermione instructed, keeping her eyes on their prisoner.

          Ron nodded and walked off to guard the corridor entrance.

          "Start explaining, Granger," Draco warned.

          "I'll be blunt," Hermione said seriously. "We need your help."

          "And this is how you ask me for a favour?" Draco snorted, crossing his arms over his chest.

          "It's the only way we could get you to  talk to us," Hermione explained. "Anyway, it doesn't matter, what matters is that Harry is in trouble."

          "Harry?" Draco questioned with a raised brow. "What has he gone and done now?"

          "He's done something incredibly stupid and incredibly dangerous."

          "What?" Draco asked impatiently, not really sure if he wanted to know, but unable to stop himself from asking.

          "He's suffering and he doesn't want anyone to know. He won't ask for help and he refuses to accept it from anyone as well."

          "What _are_ you on about?"

          "Someone is physically hurting him."

          Draco blinked in surprise. "How do you-"

          "I found him last night-"

          "Found?" Draco interrupted.

          "Yes, he was unconscious."

          Draco frowned in disbelief. "Who?"

          "We don't know for sure, but I suspect it's-"

          "Ethan," Draco concluded.

          "Yes."

          Draco averted his eyes and stared at the stone wall across from him. 

          "And what exactly do you want me to do about it?" he asked in a flat, detached tone of voice.

          "Ron and I don't like you...Draco," Hermione said disdainfully. "But Harry does, quite a lot, and we only want to see him happy. He won't talk to us, but perhaps he'll open up to you."

          Draco shook his head. "No, he's not going to talk to me. I'd be the last person-" 

          "Just try!" Hermione exclaimed in aggravation.

          "And then what?" Draco snapped. "We can return to being a happy couple again?"

          "Why not?" Hermione challenged.

          "Why not?! Because...because my father...I'm a Slytherin..." Draco shook his head angrily. "Why am I even bothering to try and explain myself to you? How do I know that this isn't just some trick of yours, or Potter's, to humiliate me?"

          Hermione slapped him.

          Draco clutched his cheek in shock.

          "Fine, don't believe me," she said tearfully. "Go see for yourself."

          She turned and started to walk off towards Ron.

          "See what?" Draco called after her.

          "See what he's hiding beneath that concealment charm."

          Draco watched as Hermione joined up with the red-head and left the corridor behind. He left shortly afterwards, and retired to his dorm room to think things over.

          He lay on his back on the large four poster bed and stared up at the dark green canopy above.

          "Harry wouldn't just take that kind of abuse," he thought with doubt. "It just doesn't make any sense."

          He rolled over and stared at the wall.

          "The only thing that makes any sense, is the possibility that Ethan is a right bastard after all. But then that would mean that Harry really _is_ getting hurt..."

          He swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up, resorting to pacing up and down the floor restlessly.

          "I shouldn't care. Harry can handle his own problems, he always has."

          But just forgetting the whole thing gave him an unsettled feeling in the pit of his stomach. He stopped and ran a hand through his hair in frustration.

          "I guess I could go check out this whole 'concealment  charm' thing. No harm in that."

          He resumed his pacing again.

          "Harry wasn't at breakfast this morning, and afternoon classes are about to start, so...I'll just have to wait until tonight."

          Draco grabbed his books and headed to class, wishing for once, that he _did_ have potions with Harry today.

          "What are you doing, Malfoy?" he asked himself on the way out.

                                                                             *        *        *        *        *        *        *        *          *                           

          Draco  cursed under his breath as the final few stragglers left the Great Hall after dinner to return to their dorms for the evening. Harry hadn't shown up for dinner either, and Draco had only caught fleeting glances of him between classes. 

          He stood up and sighed as he felt a headache coming on. He decided to make a detour to the infirmary first and grab a headache cure before going to bed.

          Madam Pomfrey wasn't in her office when he entered, so he sat down in one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs to wait.

          It wasn't long before he heard the door opening from down the hall.

          He stood up and looked around the doorframe to greet the nurse, but his eyes widened when he saw Harry carefully closing the hospital door behind him. Draco quickly ducked back into the office and hid behind the door, peeking through the small crack of the door hinge. 

          Harry crept up to the office and glanced inside, checking to see that it was empty, then walked across the hall to the medical supplies room. Draco snuck out into the hallway and watched him through the small space in the open doorway.

          Harry wrenched open one of the cupboards and snatched up a small vial of purple liquid. He tossed aside the cork stopper and downed the entire contents, sighing in relief and sagging against the counter. After a few seconds, he removed his school bag from beneath his robes and opened it up, then started loading it with the purple potions.

          Draco frowned, recognizing the potions as quite strong pain reliever tonics. He quietly took out his wand and pointed it at Harry's back. 

          "Finite Incantatem," he cast under his breath.

          Harry paused, feeling a strange tingling sensation sweep over him, then fade. He shrugged and chalked it up to the effects of the potion, then closed up his bag and shut the cupboard.

          Draco gasped when Harry turned around. 

          It didn't even look like the same person, especially with his trademark glasses missing. Harry's face was covered with patches of discolouration among the multiple scrapes and cuts, his eyes were ringed with the dark evidence of sleepless nights, his cheeks gaunt and his skin pale.

          He looked like the walking dead.

          Harry stopped to grab some bandages and slip them into his bag as well.

          Draco noticed that Harry was only using one arm to do everything and he was limping quite heavily on his left leg.

          Harry exited the storage room and quietly limped down the hallway towards the door. Draco walked out from behind the door and hollowly placed the concealment charm back on Harry before he could leave.

          The door shut behind the injured Gryffindor and Draco slid down the wall to the floor in a daze, his headache long forgotten. His mind bombarded him with images of what Harry must have gone through to end up looking the way he now did. 

          He felt sick to his stomach.

          "Oh, Harry, what have you done?"


	20. Your Tears Have Come Too Late

**~ A/N ~**  400 reviews!!!!  * ecstatic, disbelief, happy, happy, happy *  This is the most reviews I've ever received, (obviously), so thank you guys!!! 

Revolocard – You crack me up. I always look forward to seeing what you're going to write next, it always makes me smile. 

Warning for this chapter: major teenage angst.

          * Only four chapters left...

_______________________________________________________

          Anger boiled up in Draco as he sat on the floor of the infirmary, his back up against the wall, staring unblinkingly at the office door across from him. 

          What he really wanted to do, was to find Ethan and beat the living shit out of him. Then find Harry and ask him how in God's name he let this happen, and finally, throw himself into the lake because he knew it was all his fault to begin with.

          He'd never felt so responsible for some one in his entire life.

          That was it; the turning point in Draco's mind.

          He pushed himself up off of the floor and, with a new sense of purpose and determination, strode out of the hospital wing and towards Gryffindor Tower.

          He rounded the last corner and saw Ginny Weasley at the back of a group of students approaching the portrait of the Fat Lady.

          He hurried to catch her.

          "Oi, Weasley!" he called when she was the only one left in the corridor.

          Ginny turned and looked utterly shocked at the sight of Draco Malfoy hurrying towards her.

          "What are you doing here, Malfoy?" she asked, quickly recovering her composure.

          "I need to speak with Granger and Weasley, senior."

          "Why?"

          "It's none of your business," Draco snapped.

          "Fine," Ginny replied airily. She turned her back to him and stepped towards the portrait.

          "Wait, wait!" Draco grabbed her elbow.

          "Well?" she asked expectantly, raising one brow.

          "Fine," he sighed. "It's about Pot...Harry."

          "What about him?" Ginny asked coolly.

          Draco frowned at her indifferent tone. "Look, I really need to talk to them. Could you just tell them to come out?"

          "I don't think they want to talk to you."

          Draco ground his teeth in annoyance. "What is going on in your house? Have you all lost your minds?"

          "What are you talking about?"

          "I'm talking about your friend, bloody wasting away before your eyes and none of you giving a damn!"

          "He's not my friend-"

          Ginny paused and looked Draco in the eye.

          "What do you mean 'wasting away'?" she asked, hesitantly.

          Draco huffed in irritation. "Harry's in trouble and I'm going to help him."

          "So what do you need Ron and Hermione for?"

          Draco took a deep breath and remembered his new resolve. "I need their help."

          Ginny dropped her indifference and looked suitably impressed. She paused, as if carefully weighing his words. "Alright, I'll get them. Wait here."

          Draco blinked in surprise and watched as the fiery red-head disappeared behind the large painting, the Fat Lady glaring disapprovingly at him as she swung back into place.

          Only minutes later, a sleepy looking Ron and a disbelieving Hermione emerged from the common room, Ginny sticking close by.

          "Nice p.j's." Draco couldn't help commenting with a smirk, taking in Ron's blue cotton pajamas with the shooting stars embroidered on them.

          "That's it, I'm leaving," Ron announced, turning right back around.

          "No, don't," Draco exclaimed hurriedly.

          "What are you doing here?" Hermione asked. "I assume it has something to do with our conversation earlier."

          "Yes." Draco nodded, glancing at Ginny. "You can go now,  red."

          "No way, I want to hear this."

          "Gin, maybe you'd better leave," Ron suggested.

          "No." Ginny refused.

          "Ginny-"

          "Oh, let her stay!" Hermione snapped. "We don't have time for this."

          Ginny shot her sulking brother a triumphant look.

          "You saw him, didn't you?" It was more of a statement than a question when Hermione addressed Draco.

          "Yes. He looks...he looks like he's hanging onto life by a thread."

          "I know," Hermione murmured. "It's like Harry's not even in there anymore, he's become a walking shell of his former self...hollow."

          "What are you talking about?" Ginny asked, puzzled.

          "Harry is using a concealment charm to hide the fact that someone-"

          "Ethan," Draco interjected acidly.

          "We don't know that for sure," Hermione reminded.

          "Who else could it be?"

          "Hiding what?" Ginny demanded.

          "That someone," Ron looked pointedly at Draco, "is hurting Harry."

           "More like slowly killing him," Draco muttered. "And why haven't you lot noticed earlier? I  thought Gryffindors were loyal and good, and all that bollocks."

          "Because no one in Gryffindor is speaking to him right now," Ron explained.

          "Why not?" Draco asked. "Because of me?"

          "No, funnily enough it wasn't the fact that Harry was shagging a male Slytherin, even if it was you, that bothered them,"  Ron answered. "It was the fact that he completely lost it one night and insulted our entire house, including me and Hermione, in the middle of the common room."

          Draco frowned. "That doesn't sound like, Harry."

          "No, it was very strange," Hermione agreed.

          "A spell?" Draco wondered aloud.

          "Perhaps."

          "Maybe polyjuice," Ron suggested.

          "No student could brew a polyjuice potion," Draco informed him patronizingly.

          "Oh, yeah?" Ron challenged.

          "Ron!" Hermione silenced him quickly.

          "So what's the plan?" Ginny asked.

          "This doesn't involve you," Draco said firmly.

          "Actually,  we do need her," Hermione spoke up. "Ginny, I need you to do whatever you can to repair the damage Harry caused to his relationship with the rest of Gryffindor. Try and get them to at least be _willing_ to forgive him. He's going to need as many friends around him as possible for this to work."

          "I'll try," Ginny spoke with conviction.

          "What are _we_ going to do?" Ron asked.

          "I assume you're here because you want to help?" Hermione turned to Draco.

          Draco nodded. "I still can't stand the two of you, but I need to help him."

          "Likewise," Ron growled.

         "The three of us," Hermione continued, ignoring the radiating animosity between the two boys. "Are going to give Harry a little surprise tomorrow."

                   *        *        *        *        *        *        *        *        *                           

          Harry looked up as Ethan placed a breakfast tray full of scrambled eggs, bacon, French toast, and warm maple syrup, on his lap.

          "What's all this for?" he asked curiously.

          Ethan settled himself down on the bed next to Harry and grinned. "We're celebrating the beginning of Christmas holidays."

          "But that's tomorrow," Harry pointed out hesitantly.

          "I know, but I also wanted to apologize for my behaviour lately. I haven't been myself; moving to a new school, the seventh year course load – the stress was really getting to me. I feel like we can start all over again, especially with all this free time ahead of us."

          "Really?" Harry asked hopefully.

          "Oui, mon amour."

          Harry smiled and felt slightly optimistic about Ethan's promise.  

          "So you forgive me?"

          "Of course," Harry replied quickly. "I should've realized how hard it's been for you here."

          Ethan kissed him on the cheek and reached for something on his bedside table.

          "What's that?" Harry asked apprehensively, his smile fading.

          "It's to mend your arm."

          Harry's eyes widened as he accepted the blue vial and stared at the smoking potion. "Where did you get it?"

          "We were making them in class, and I decided to pilfer some and give it to you."

          "Thank you," Harry breathed, hardly daring to believe it.

          "Go ahead, drink it," Ethan encouraged.

          Harry closed his eyes and drank down the entire contents.

          "Sorry, I didn't have time to flavour it," Ethan apologized with a smile.

          "That's okay, it doesn't really have any taste anyway."

          Harry felt a strange tingling in the pit of his stomach, then it spread through his veins and blood stream, gravitating up towards his right arm. The tingling changed to a pleasant warm sensation, then there was a slight tightening of the entire arm, the bones coming together. Then it was all over.

          Harry cautiously raised his arm and flexed it in amazement.

          "All better?" Ethan asked.

          "Yes," Harry said in disbelief.

          "You look surprised."

          "No." Harry was quick to deny. "It was just so fast."

          Ethan chuckled good-naturedly and helped himself to a piece of French toast.

          Harry smiled as he continued to get the lingering stiffness out of his newly healed arm. 

          He felt like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, and his heart felt lighter. No more pain in his arm, Christmas holidays start tomorrow, and Ethan had apologized – it was shaping up to be a very promising day.

                   *        *        *        *        *        *        *        *        *                           

          "What the fuck?!"

          "That sounds familiar," Ron remarked wryly.

          He and Draco shoved Harry's struggling, sheet covered body into a chair and stepped back, catching their breath.

          Hermione closed the door to the Room of Requirement and turned to face Harry as he wrenched the sheet off of his head.

          The room was completely bare, but for the one wooden chair and some dusty windows lining the far wall.

          Harry gaped soundlessly at the three of them, his face quickly turning red in outrage.

          "Before you say anything," Hermione intercepted. "Let me just say that we're here to help you."

          "I told you before - I don't need your help," Harry said dangerously.

          "I think you do," Ron spoke up. "Or maybe I should just lift that concealment charm and let it speak for itself."

          "Then maybe I just don't _want_ your help," Harry shouted angrily, rising out of the chair.

          Ron and Draco quickly pushed him back down.

          "Don't touch me!" Harry yelped, recoiling from Draco's touch.

          Draco flinched, but held his gaze.

          "Please, just listen to us," Hermione pleaded, stepping forward to kneel in front of him.

          Harry scowled and glared at her.

          "Harry, we're not angry with you," she started softly. "We know you're hurting and in some kind of trouble, and we only want to help you."

          "You're beginning to sound like a broken record," Harry grumbled. 

          "Harry-"

          "Just leave me alone," he said weakly.

          "I can't." Hermione shook her head. "I'm not going to let you do this to yourself. Just tell us what's wrong."

          "There's nothing wrong with me," Harry ground out, the steely edge returning to his voice.

          Hermione paused and placed a hand over his. "Is someone hurting you, Harry?"

          Harry swallowed and looked away; feeling embarrassed, ashamed, weak, and wanting to just disappear.

          "Is it, Ethan?"

          Harry turned back to her sharply and threw off her hand. "What do you care?"

          "Harry, I _do_ care-"

          "No, you bloody well don't!" he shouted, jumping up and rushing for the door.

          "It's locked," Ron informed him tonelessly.

          "Then unlock it!" Harry demanded, frantically turning the knob.

          "No."

          "Let me out!" he screamed furiously, pounding on the door.

          "Harry, calm down," Draco said in concern.

          "You!" Harry raged, turning around. "Do not get to tell me what to do. Why are you even here?"

          Draco watched him silently.

          "You want to know what's hurting me?" he yelled at all three of them. "My life. That's the problem."

          "What are you saying?" Ron asked in alarm, glancing at Hermione.

          "I'm saying that there really _is_ nothing wrong. This is exactly what I've come to expect from my life, I'm actually sort of getting used to it."

          "But he's beating you!" Ron cried.

          "So?" Harry challenged recklessly. "At least he loves me. And who's to say that I don't deserve it?"

          "Harry-"

          "No, Hermione," he interrupted. "I know what you're going to say, but this isn't some text book case that you can analyse and fix, because this _isn't_ text book. No one else could possible have the life that I've been cursed with. I don't want your pity and I don't want your help. I'll deal with this on my own.  I managed just fine living with an uncle who beat, starved, and threw me in a cupboard for eleven years, and I can deal with this, too."

          "But you shouldn't have to," Hermione protested, tearfully.

          "But I want to," Harry said quietly, almost pleadingly. "This is all I have."

          "No, it's not," Ron said, determinedly. "You have us, and we're not going anywhere."

          Draco winced and knew what was coming as Harry shot an accusing glare his way.

          "I think I remember hearing that before," he said sarcastically. "You didn't answer me before; what _are_ you doing here, Malfoy?"

          "I want to help you, and for what it's worth, I'm sorry about what happened."

          "Oh, you're sorry?" Harry laughed sarcastically. "Alright then, all better. Job well done, guys."

          "Harry-"

          "I'd really appreciate it if you didn't talk to me at all, Malfoy. You're just another nightmare that I'm trying to forget."

          "Harry..." Draco whispered, stung.

          "What were you expecting?" Harry asked quietly. "That I'd trust you? That I'd welcome you back with open arms? Well, I'm sorry to burst your bubble, but that will **never** happen. I've found someone else. Someone who's not ashamed to be seen with me, who truly loves me."

          "That's not love," Draco said darkly.

          "And you would know?" Harry snorted. "Or is love making someone fall for you and then dismissing them in front of the whole school as nothing more than a thorn in your side – a discarded toy that you've grown weary of. A whore, as I seem to recall."

          Draco distantly felt the sting of tears as he listened to Harry pour his heart out.

          "I won't pretend that it doesn't hurt to see you again...Draco, because it does."

          Harry paused, before delivering the final blow.

          "Maybe Ethan does hurt me once and awhile, but at least he didn't break my heart."

          Hermione, Ron, and Draco were silent, not knowing what to say to that, watching as Harry turned away from them and wearily leaned his forehead against the wooden door.

          "I'm finished talking. Let me out," he whispered pitiably against the grain. 

          Ron and Hermione glanced at each other, while Draco stared sadly at Harry's back. Hermione raised her wand and released the locking spell.

          Harry heard the click of the bolt and let himself out without a backward glance.

          "Now what?" Ron asked, turning to Hermione.

          "This is going to be much harder than I thought," she said slowly. "He needs something to pull him out of this, something to fill him with strength again. He's so resigned, like he doesn't even care what happens to him anymore. If only Remus or Sirius were here..."

          "God, so much has happened to Harry this year," Ron exhaled in frustration. "Losing Professor Lupin, Sirius, the whole thing with Malfoy..."

          "Hey, I'm standing right here!" Draco exclaimed indignantly.

          "Sorry, but it's true. And that's not even including You-Know-Who, who has yet to make his yearly appearance of havoc-wreaking."

          "It's almost as if..." Hermione trailed off, deep in thought.

          "What?"

          "As if it's all just a little _too_ much."

          "What do you mean?" Ron asked in confusion.

          "You think Ethan is working for You-Know-Who?" Draco asked.

          "I don't think so," Hermione frowned in concentration. "Dumbledore would know if he's from a Dark family or not, and keep an eye on him. I think it's more likely that he's just a twisted individual who is maybe jealous of Harry and likes to see him suffer, or maybe hoping to someday be a part of V-Voldemort's gang."

          "Or both," Draco muttered.

          "Do you know anything about him or his family?" Hermione asked Draco.

          "No, I've never heard of him before. No one in Slytherin has."

          "That's strange..."

          "So, are you saying that we should deal with Ethan ourselves and not through, Harry?" Ron asked.

          "I don't think Harry is going to co-operate," Hermione said distractedly.

          "He's too bloody proud and stubborn," Draco sighed.

          "Lunch is almost over," Ron announced, glancing at his wrist watch. "What's the plan?"

          "Are you staying at Hogwarts over the holidays?" Hermione asked Draco, starting to walk towards the open doorway.

          "Yeah, I'll be around."

          "Tomorrow, I'm going to go to the library and see if I can find anything on the Fiori family in the History of Wizarding Bloodlines section. Also, I'll see if I can somehow get my hands on his student file from Dumbledore's office."

          The three walked out into the corridor and stood watching as the door blended back into the stone wall and vanished from sight.

          "Meanwhile, you two should keep an eye on, Harry. Make sure he doesn't get worse, not that it will be easy to tell, what with that concealment charm on him all hours of the day. Also, Draco you should find out anything you can about, Ethan. Eavesdrop on his conversations if possible."

          "At least now we know that it's Ethan for sure," Ron said. "Why don't we just go to Dumbledore?"

          "No," Hermione said firmly. "Harry would hate us even more. We'll try this first, and go to the headmaster as a last resort. Let's try and keep an eye on Ethan whenever we can."

          "I'd better go before someone sees me with you two," Draco said nervously.

          "Heaven forbid," Ron muttered, with a roll of his eyes.

          "I'll contact you if I find anything," Hermione called after him.

          Draco waved a hand in acknowledgement as he walked away.

          "I don't know why we're bothering to include him in helping, Harry." Ron glowered "It's his fault in the first place. Harry is more likely to talk to us, than to him."

          "Because Draco still loves him."

          "How do you know?"

          "Isn't it obvious?" Hermione smiled. "Why else would he come to us for our help? Besides, in the end true love conquers all."

          Ron pretended to gag as the two friends headed off to their afternoon classes.

          Vincent Balkwill stepped around the corner, and stared after the two Gryffindors with a malevolent smile.

                   *        *        *        *        *        *        *        *        *                           

          "Hey, Ethan!"

          Ethan swivelled around in his DADA chair and smiled in greeting at Vincent, who was just entering the classroom.

          Vincent sat down beside him and dropped his heavy text books to the table top with a loud thump. He leaned towards Ethan conspiratorially, a secretive smirk on his ape-like face.

          "What?" Ethan asked with a curious smile.

          "I've got something to tell you..."


	21. Startling Discoveries

_~A/N~_  I'm sorry about the long wait for this one, but I have very little spare time right now and it could take awhile for the last few chapters to get out. Hopefully, it won't take longer than two weeks per update. This chapter is very long and contains a lot of information, so that should make you happy. Enjoy!

_______________________________________________________________________________

                                                                                                            ~ _Every time I try to grasp for air,_

_                                                                                                                   I am smothered in despair_

_                                                                                                                           It's never over_

_                                                                                                        Seems I'll never wake from this nightmare_

_                                                                                                                    I let out a silent prayer -_

_                                                                                                                           let it be over ~_

****

            Ethan grabbed a hold of Vincent's sleeve and forcibly pulled him to the side of the corridor, the rest of their DADA class filing past into the noisy flurry of between class activity and chatter.

            No one took any notice of the two Slytherins; one looking superior and the other burning a hole into his face with a dark, intense stare.

            "And you saw Potter with them?" Ethan asked, picking up their conversation where they had left off, with Vincent having told him the basic details of what he'd witnessed.

            "Yes." Vincent nodded emphatically. "They were all in some kind of magical room together."

            "Magical room?"

            "Yeah, I was walking down the corridor and this door opened out of nowhere and Potter came walking out. I ducked around the corner and a few seconds later Malfoy and those two Gryffindor friends of Potter's came out, too."

            "And that's when you overheard them talking?" Ethan confirmed.

            Vincent nodded dutifully.

            "Those fucking Gryffindors," Ethan ground out. "Always sticking their noses in other people's business."

            "So, why _is_ Potter using a concealment charm?" Vincent asked curiously.

            Ethan snapped out of his angry reverie and smiled. "The boy is like a disobedient puppy, sometimes you have to smack him around a few times to get him to listen."

            "You _hit_ the Boy-Who-Lived?" Vincent asked incredulously.

            "Of course, how else am I supposed to discipline him when he fucks up, and believe me, it's often."

            "Then why date him?" Vincent asked, all traces of amusement gone.

            Ethan scanned his expression thoughtfully, then gave his head a shake. "Well, he is famous and all that..." he trailed off.

            "Plus, he lets you beat him," Vincent said, without humour.

            Ethan, not registering the tone of Vincent's statement, burst into peals of laughter. "Yeah, he just stands there and takes it."

            Vincent smiled half-heartedly, hiding the repulsion twisting in his gut. This was too much even for his jaded Slytherin mind. "We'd better get to class," he pointed out hollowly.

            Ethan wiped a tear of laughter from his eye and picked up his discarded book bag. "Oh, wait!"

            "What?"

            "I need you to watch those meddlesome Gryffindors for me."

            "What for?"

            "Just make sure they're not trying to get me into trouble."

            "What about, Malfoy?" Vincent asked, as they started walking.

            "Leave him to me."

                        *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *                                  

            Draco breathed a sigh of  relief as he exited greenhouse number three. He was definitely grateful  for the upcoming break from classes for the next three weeks, leaving him to concentrate on more important things -  namely, Harry.

            "Malfoy!"

            Draco turned and was instantly on his guard as Ethan came striding over to him, a pleasant smile plastered on his face.

            "What do you want?" Draco asked shortly, his volatile anger already boiling just below the surface.

            "May I have a word with you?"

            There was definitely an underlying layer of tension in that simple request.

            "No, you may not," Draco declined breezily.

            Ethan's smile vanished, a storm quickly gathering in his darkening eyes. "I think it would be in your best interest to talk with me...and Harry's, too."

            "Are you trying to blackmail me?" Draco asked, angrily.

            "Yes, I believe I am," Ethan smirked. "Now follow me."

            Against his better judgement, Draco followed the other boy into the empty greenhouse.

            "I'll be brief," Ethan said in a business-like voice, placing his bag down on one of the stools and turning to lean against the edge of the table. "I just came to give you a friendly reminder."

            "Of what?" Draco asked, pertly.

            Ethan smiled. "That Potter is mine, and you had better stay away from him."

            "Or what?" Draco challenged.

            "Or I'll simply take the 'temptation' out of the equation."

            "What temptation?"

            "Why, Harry himself, of course," Ethan spoke with an eerie sense of casualty. "It would be fairly easy, I assure you."

            "What makes you think that I even care?"

            Ethan laughed. "Don't try to play that game with me, Malfoy." He straightened up and moved to stand directly in front of Draco,  leaning over to whisper in his ear. "I know all your secrets."

            "What secrets?" Draco snorted, unaffected.

            "That you're still in love with Harry Potter," he whispered slowly, drawing it out.

            Draco stepped back and narrowed his eyes dangerously. "I'm not the only one with secrets. I know what you're _really_ like."

            "You mean the behind-closed-doors side of me?" Ethan  asked with a smile.

            "You wouldn't want that getting around now, would you?"

            "That _would_ put  a damper on things," Ethan agreed derisively. "But Potter's body would be cold long before anyone could do anything about it."

            "Maybe Harry will eventually dump _you_," Draco said with malice.

            Ethan's smile grew as he backed  up and casually slung his bag over his shoulder. "He'll never leave me," he said with certainty. "No matter what I do to him, he always comes back. Sometimes he asks for it, begs for it even, for the pain that I can give him. It's an addiction with these poor misguided boys that seek it out the abuse that has followed them their entire lives. Strange, isn't it? You ever wonder if maybe that's why he was with you, Malfoy."

            "I never laid a hand on him," Draco growled defensively.

            "But it was there, lurking just beneath the surface-"

            "No."

            "-and Harry wanted to seek it out."

            "No," Draco denied vehemently. "It wasn't like that-"

            "Come on, Malfoy," Ethan urged playfully. "Your name says it all – your father is a part of a faction whose main goal is to _kill _Harry Potter. Harry was probably hoping that you would reveal yourself as the Death Eater in training that you are and torture him."

            "You're sick," Draco frowned in disgust. "And I am _not_ my father."

            "No, you're not," Ethan conceded wisely. "But sadly,  neither are you brave enough to stand up to him. You proclaim that you care for Potter, and yet, you don't want to be seen with him. I guess that leaves you kind of in the middle. Alone."

            Ethan shifted  his bag and gave Draco a knowing smile as he passed  by and left him alone in the quiet of the greenhouse.

                        *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *

            "Granger!" Draco hissed between  the shelves in the library.

            Hermione turned and peered through the stacks of books in amusement. "I'm alone, Malfoy, no need for the cloak and dagger routine."

            Draco slipped around the tall shelf, glancing around the near deserted library, as he entered her aisle.

            "Where is everyone?" he wondered aloud.

            Hermione picked up another book and glanced over the cover. "It's the first day of Christmas holidays."

            "Oh, right." Draco remembered. "No one in their right mind would come in to do any work today."

            Hermione slid the book back into place and glared over her shoulder at Draco. "Some people happen to like the quiet of the library on the first day of the break."

            Draco rolled his eyes and sat down on a nearby foot stool. "Anyway, I'm not here to discuss how pathetic your personal life is."

            "You're certainly not here to make friends either," Hermione muttered, still perusing the dusty shelves.

            "I had a little chat with our good friend Ethan today, or rather, _he_ had a little chat with me."

            Hermione whirled around in surprise. "He spoke to you? Why? About what?" she asked, breathlessly.

            "To give me a warning," Draco sneered. "To stay away from Harry, or else."

            "Or else what?"

            "Or else _Harry_ will pay for it."

            Hermione frowned and chewed her  bottom lip  worriedly.

            "He knows we're up to something," Draco said.

            "Apparently," Hermione replied dryly.

            "Have you found anything on his family yet?"

            "No, nothing." Hermione sighed in frustration. "There is no mention of a Fiori family line at all."

            "I guess I could ask my father..."

            "Wouldn't he get suspicious?" Hermione asked hesitantly.

            "I somehow doubt he'll guess that we need to find out about an abusive Slytherin boy so that  we can save Harry Potter from his evil clutches."

            "Are you ever _not_ sarcastic?" Hermione asked, laconically.

            "Only when I'm not talking to you or the Weasel." Draco smiled brightly. "Speaking of which, here's your little boyfriend now."

            "He's not my boyfriend," Hermione informed him distractedly, watching as Ron came rushing across the room to them.

            Madam Pince glared at him reproachfully  from behind her counter.

            "Did you get it?" Hermione asked, excitedly.

            "Yep." Ron grinned  proudly.

            "Get what?" Draco asked curiously.

            "Let's see it," Hermione whispered in delight.

            Ron pulled from under his cloak a large, manila folder full of papers. As Hermione grasped a hold of it, Draco glimpsed a name written neatly on the front.

            "You stole Ethan's personal file?" Draco asked, impressed despite himself.

            Ron smiled and nodded as Hermione opened the file and began intently searching through its contents.

            Draco stepped up to her side and read over her shoulder as Ron leaned against the book shelf and waited.

            Twenty minutes later, Hermione closed the folder in frustration and stamped her foot. "I thought for sure we would find something in here that we could use. Now all we know is that his school record is impeccable and that his extra-curricular activities include quidditch and chess club."

            "And we also know where he lives," Draco said, raising a brow suggestively.

            "What are you going to do?" Ron asked. "Break into his house?"

            "No, but we could talk to his parents. Ask them a few questions."

            "I really don't think they'll talk to you."

            "I'll be nice," Draco smiled. "I'll just be my usual charming self. How can they resist?"

            Ron snorted and was about to reply to that when Hermione interrupted.

            "Alright, but I'm going, too."

            Ron gaped. "You can't be serious! His parents are probably psychos. They might hex you or murder you, and chop you up into little bits."

            "Don't be so dramatic, Ron," Hermione chastised. "Dumbledore met with them at the beginning of term, so I'm sure they're fine. Plus, we'll have our wands with us."

            "I think its crazy," Ron grumbled.

            "Good, because you're not going," Hermione said, firmly.

            "What?" Ron exclaimed. "Harry's my friend-"

            "Which is why you have to stay here and look after him."

            "Oh...right."

            "Okay?"

            "Yeah, I'll stay. But you have to tell me everything that you see, especially the creepy, evil stuff."

            "I promise," Hermione smiled.

            "Can we go now?" Draco interrupted impatiently.

            "Yes, let's go."

            "Be careful," Ron called after them.

            Hermione safely tucked Ethan's folder under one arm as she hurried to keep up with Draco's long strides. "How are we going to get there?" she asked.

            "Broom," Draco answered shortly. "It'll be fastest."

            "Great," Hermione groaned inwardly, brooms not being her favourite mode of transportation.

            Draco stopped them at the library door. "You'll have to meet me there, we can't be seen together."

            Hermione nodded and counted to thirty before following.

            Ron hoped that Hermione wasn't getting in over her head on this one as he watched her exit. He grabbed his school bag and decided to go to his room to change out of his uniform and see how his sister was doing tackling the monumental job of gaining Harry's ex-Gryffindor friends back. 

                        *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *

            Harry paced back and forth under the large willow tree by the lake; the water as smooth as glass and reflecting the grey sky above. His earlier anger had dissipated, leaving him feeling depressed and restless – not a good combination.

            "Why won't they leave me alone?" he muttered, under his breath. "And why the hell was Draco there? What is he thinking..."

            He threw himself down onto the packed earth beneath the large tree and leaned back against its thick trunk. He began to randomly rip out blades of grass and watch them get caught in the wind, flying off of his palm and scattering on the breeze.

            Harry sighed and stopped to twirl one particularly long blade of grass between his thumb and forefinger. He stared at it, lost in thought.

            "What would the world be like without me?" he wondered idly, and without emotion. "If only I didn't have that stupid prophecy to live up to...Without Voldemort, there's no need for me to even exist."

            It was a sobering thought.

            Harry tossed the piece of grass into the air and watched as it fluttered down a few feet away onto the lake's edge.

            "Strange how the only thing keeping me here is the one thing I've feared and hated my entire life."

            Still feeling on edge, Harry stood up and looked out over the calm expanse of water.

            "Would I really be able to do it, though?" he wondered. 

            "Harry!"

            Harry slowly turned his head and felt his blood run cold as Ethan fast approached - a look of fury marring his handsome features.

            "What's wrong?" Harry asked, as he came close.

            Ethan lifted his arms and shoved Harry back against the tree, stepping up to keep him pinned in place. "Do you really need to ask?" he snarled, sarcastically.

            "I don't underst-"

            Harry was cut off by a sharp slap across the face.

            "Think harder," Ethan commanded.

            "I...I..." Harry stammered.

            "Who were you with today, hmm?"

            Harry paled and his pulse quickened in fear. "You...saw us?"

            "No, I had to hear it from someone else."

            "Who?"

            "It doesn't matter!" Ethan shouted, furiously. "What matters is that you are sleeping around behind my back!"

            "No, it's not like that," Harry tried to explain. "He just wanted to talk, but I didn't stay. I left as soon as I could-"

            Ethan grabbed the front of Harry's cloak and slammed him back against the tree, then quickly darted his hand to Harry's exposed throat and wrapped his long fingers around the soft, sensitive flesh.

            Harry gasped, eyes widening, as Ethan squeezed just enough to produce stars at the corner of his vision and reduce his flow of air. He choked and clawed at Ethan's strong grip, panicking as Ethan just smiled and watched in animalistic pleasure.

            The sound of a group of students laughing and talking while exiting the school, finally caused Ethan to release his hold and step back.

            Harry bent over and desperately drank in large gulps of air while holding his bruised throat.

            "This isn't over, Harry," Ethan said, quietly. "We need to finish this...conversation later. Meet me in my room, and you had better show up."

            Harry straightened and watched Ethan as he walked away. He drew in a shaky breath and stuffed his still trembling hands into his trouser pockets, ducking his head as the group of care-free students passed by.

            They watched curiously as the famous Harry Potter suddenly ran off across the grounds towards the school, leapt up the stairs and banged through the heavy entrance doors.

            Harry sprinted through the halls, tears stinging his eyes and blurring his vision, as he hurtled past students and professors alike. He didn't stop until he was in the isolated safety of his dorm room.

            He collapsed onto his bed and sobbed; great, big sobs that wracked his entire body and erupted from his throat. Tears coursed down his cheeks and fell onto his sheets as he lay there, feeling hopeless, feeling lost, and feeling afraid for his life.

            He knew with certainty that if he went to Ethan's later, he wouldn't live through the night. And if he didn't go at all – he wouldn't live through tomorrow.

            "Harry?"

            Harry sat up and wiped his eyes, instinctively knowing who's voice that belonged to. "Ron."

            Ron closed the door behind him, then cautiously approached Harry's bed and leaned against the wooden post. "Are you okay?"

            Harry sniffed and shook his head, not meeting his gaze.

            Ron tentatively sat on the edge of the bed beside him and watched his friend with sad eyes. "Please talk to me, Harry."

            Harry looked up into Ron's concerned face and something inside of him finally broke free. "Oh, Ron," he cried, voice breaking. "It's all out of control."

            Ron's eyes filled with tears as he threw his arms around Harry and hugged him for all he was worth. Harry cried into Ron's shoulder and returned the hug just as fiercely. 

            Ron rocked him back and forth, letting him cry for as long as he needed, his own tears still spilling from his eyes as he listened and murmured words of comfort and support.

            "I don't know what to do," Harry choked, emotionally.

            "I'll help you, Harry," Ron promised. "Just tell me what happened."

            Harry squeezed his eyes shut and drew in a ragged breath. "It's Ethan..."

            "Yes?" Ron encouraged gently.

            "He wants to see me tonight and...I think...he's...he's going to..."

            "Hurt you?"

            "Kill me."

            Ron pulled away and looked Harry in the eye. "What? Are...are you serious?"

            Harry nodded and put his head in his hands despondently. 

            "You have to stay here," Ron said, firmly. "Don't go to him."

            "I can't stay here forever," Harry said, sadly. 

            "But you can't just walk off to your death!" Ron exclaimed, desperately.

            "He'll find me, Ron. There's nothing I can do..."

            "No." Ron shook his head. "There is something you can do – tell Dumbledore."

            Harry's eyes widened in alarm. "No, I couldn't...he'll be so disappointed or disgusted..."

            "You have to, Harry. Or I could do it for you...or I'll come with you while you do it. Please..."

            "I'm so scared," Harry whispered. "I feel like I'm sinking farther and farther into something I have no control over. What if I've sunk too deep to get out again?"

            "You will, Harry," Ron said, steadfastly. "I swear it."

            Harry took a deep breath. "I...I'll try."

            Ron's eyes lit with hope. "You will?"

            Harry nodded nervously.

            "Great. I know you can do this. Let's go."

            "No!" Harry cried anxiously. "I don't want to leave Gryffindor Tower."

            "Alright," Ron said, slowly. "I'll bring Dumbledore to you, then."

            Harry smiled weakly and wiped his eyes. "Thanks."

            Ron smiled reassuringly and stood up.

            "Ron?"

            He turned at the door and looked back. "Yeah?"

            "How come you don't hate me?"

            "You're my best friend," Ron stated, simply. "I can't be petty when you're in trouble. Besides, it's my chance to save you this time. Kinda feels good."

            Harry smiled.

            "I'll be right back," Ron promised with a smile. Then he was gone.

            Harry tried to relax and lie still on his bed for awhile, but he kept tossing and turning, thinking about Dumbledore's reaction. Eventually, he had to stand and pace the room, wringing his hands anxiously.

            A sudden knock at the door startled him.

            "That was fast," he muttered.

            He opened the door and was surprised to see Seamus standing there.

            "Someone is at the door for you," he announced.

            "Oh...thanks."

            Harry felt the floor drop out from under him as he watched Seamus turn and walk back down to the common room. He knew with certainty, exactly who was waiting for him down those stairs.

            "This is never going to end," he thought, miserably. "Unless I do it myself."

            Harry took one last look around his dorm room – his home of the last six years of his life – then turned and slowly descended the stairs. 

            He was met by the sight of Ethan lounging in the doorway. Ethan smiled in greeting and Harry had to force his limbs to obey and walk over.

            "Forget about our date?" Ethan asked, smiling icily.

            Harry hated that smile. "No," he answered stiffly. "I'm coming."

            "Good boy, I knew you would." Ethan stepped back and waited for Harry to follow him out into the corridor.

            Harry took a deep breath and stepped across the threshold.

                        *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *

            Draco landed gracefully near the end of Garner Street, at the edge of Ivodia Village; an all wizarding community similar to Hogsmeade. He climbed off of his borrowed broom and waited patiently as Hermione slowly descended to the ground next to him.

            "I think I'll take the train back," she muttered, clambering unsteadily off of her broom and letting it fall to the earth with a thud.

            "I guess you can't be great at everything," Draco smirked. "Of course, I am the exception to that rule."

            "Really? Then how do you explain all the times Harry kicked your ass in quidditch?" Hermione countered.

            "Oh my, such language, Granger." Draco shook his head in mock disapproval.

            Hermione rolled her eyes. "Let's go."

            "Right." Draco shouldered his broom and started off up the deserted street.

            "It's pretty quiet, isn't it?" Hermione whispered, looking around at the lack of activity.

            "I am _not_ going to say it."

            "What?"

            "Oh, come on, you know. That famous line in scary films that inevitably comes after one character says, 'it's so quiet.'"

            "You mean, 'yes, a little _too_ quiet.?'" Hermione laughed.

            Draco groaned. "Muggle films are so corny."

            "What do you know about Muggle films, Malfoy?"

            "I know that most of them are sappy and predictable, or incredibly weird. Harry made me watch this one called 'The Matrix' – didn't understand a thing."

            "So, are there any you _do_ like?" Hermione asked, turning at the corner and continuing up an adjoining avenue.

            "Well, I haven't seen enough to have a favourite or anything, but I did enjoy that 'Jurassic Park' one. It was fairly entertaining."

            Hermione rolled her eyes. "Didn't you and Harry watch anything other than action films?"

            "I'll have you know that we watched half of 'Moulin Rouge', but the constant singing got on my nerves. I thing if Muggles stopped making musicals their suicide rate would be cut in half."

            "Hey, I liked Moulin Rouge!" Hermione exclaimed, indignantly.

            "Shh...this is it."

            The two teenagers looked up at the house in front of them in surprise.

            "I was half expecting either a giant mansion or a creepy shack," said Draco. "This is _way_ too normal."

            Hermione nodded in agreement.

            Ethan's home was nothing more than a quaint, Victorian-style house. It was painted a bright white with blue shutters and pretty flower boxes beneath most of the windows. A large, wrap-around porch graced the front and side of the house, and a pale yellow porch swing sat to the left of the front door. Atop the roof perched a rooster-shaped weather vane.

            "Get your wand ready," Hermione warned, as she knocked on the door.

            Draco gripped his wand tightly within the confines of his cloak pocket. He tensed as the sound of a lock being released echoed from within. 

            The door swung open to reveal a sweet looking elderly woman; her grey hair was pulled back into a loose bun and she held a silver cooking sheet of freshly baked cookies in one hand.

            Draco snorted and took his hand off of his wand.

            The woman looked at them in confusion. "Can I help you?" she asked.

            "Er...we're looking for Mr and Mrs Fiori," Hermione said hesitantly, glancing at Draco.

            "Oh, you must be from Hogwarts." The woman broke into a smile.

            "Yes." Hermione nodded. "Are you Mrs Fiori?"

            "No, my name is Irene Fielding."

            "We're...friends, of a student at Hogwarts, Ethan Fiori, and we were led to believe that he lived here."

            "He does," the woman answered, brightly. "Won't you come in?"

            "Er..thank you."

            Draco and Hermione entered the foyer and quickly surveyed their surroundings; there was a small dining room to the left and an informal sitting room on the right. A staircase led up to the next level in the left-hand corner opposite them, and next to that was a hallway that led to what looked like a large, white kitchen.

            "Come with me, children." The lady beckoned, cheerfully. "I need to get these cookies onto a rack to cool."

            Draco raised a brow at the word, 'children,' as he walked on the polished, hard-wood floor into the kitchen. He and Hermione stood awkwardly by the counter as the woman began to transfer the cookies onto waiting metal racks.

            "So, you know, Ethan?" Hermione finally asked.

            "Oh, yes," Irene chuckled. "He's my son."

            "But-"

            "My _adoptive_ son."

            "Well, that explains a lot," Draco muttered out of the corner of his mouth.

            "It's just you here, then?" Hermione continued.

            "Yes. Just me and mon petit garcon. My husband, Alec, past on four years ago."

            "I'm sorry," Hermione offered sympathetically. 

            "It was hard," Irene admitted with a sigh. "I don't know what I would have done without, Ethan. He's been my pride and joy ever since."

            "How long has he been living with you?" Draco asked, watching as she hung up her apron and removed her oven mitts.

            "Oh, about five years now. Won't you sit down?"

            Hermione and Draco moved to the round, wooden table and sat next to each other.

            "Would you like a cookie?" Mrs Fielding asked with a smile.

            "No, thank you," Hermione declined, politely. "What can you tell us about, Ethan?"

            Irene picked up a cookie and joined them at the table. "What do you wish to know?"

            "Well, what was he like as a child?"

            Mrs Fielding smiled to herself as she bit into the oatmeal raisin cookie. "He was very quiet for a long time, didn't want to talk to me or my husband. I think he resented us at first."

            "Resented?" Hermione questioned.

            "Yes, you see his biological family was not what you would call 'normal.' They were into the bad magic's and all that." Irene paused and suddenly smiled again. "I think I need some milk. Are you kids thirsty?"

            "No, thank you." Hermione watched her stand and walk over to the refrigerator. "Were his parents' pure-bloods?"

            "Oh my, yes. Quite powerful too, I might say."

            She took out a glass jug of milk and poured some into a small cup, immediately taking a sip before returning the container back to the fridge.

            "Really?" Draco asked. "Then why have I never heard of the 'Fiori's' before?"

            Irene sat back down and frowned slightly. "Because that's not his real name."

            "It's not?" Draco leaned forward.

            "No, he didn't want to take our name, and he wished to retain his French heritage, so he looked through lots of books and found 'Fiori' in a French novel."

            "Why did he want to change it in the first place?"

            "He didn't want people to connect him to his real family, and we agreed that it was the right course of action. He would've been ridiculed and teased, and he doesn't deserve that. He's a sweet boy."

            Draco bit his tongue as Hermione glanced warningly at him.

            "What _is_ his real name?" Hermione asked, intently.

            "I don't thing Ethan would want you to know that," she said, shaking her head.

            "We don't care who his family is," Hermione was quick to reply. "This is Draco Malfoy, they can't be much worse than _his_ family."

            "Hey!" Draco exclaimed.

            "Malfoy?" Mrs Fielding repeated, with a tilt of her head. "I've heard of you." She paused thoughtfully, eyeing Draco with interest. "Why don't you ask Ethan yourselves? I don't want to tell you without his permission. He's happy now. He's wanted to go to Hogwarts for the past few years, and I don't want to ruin anything for him."

            "Why did he want to go to Hogwarts so badly?" 

            "I don't really know, he just got it into his head one day that he really wanted to go there. I think it was the day he read about that Tri-Wizard tournament. He liked the excitement of Hogwarts, it's always in the papers for something or other, and it has quite a prestigious history. Plus, his parents went there-"

            Hermione and Draco shared a look.

            "-we took Ethan to France to be schooled, thinking that was what he wanted, but he kept begging to come back here. My husband thought it best that he remain in France, but after his passing, I decided to give Ethan what he wanted and let him finish his last year here. I don't like to refuse my son anything. He's a sweet boy."

            Draco was starting to think that Mrs Fielding had lost a few marbles along the way. "I'm sure Ethan wouldn't mind if you told us who his family is," he said, casually. "It'll give us something in common, something to talk about."

            "That is true," Irene conceded, slowly. "I suppose you have the right to know. Especially you, young Malfoy."

            "What is that supposed to mean?" Draco questioned. "He's not my long lost brother or something, is he?"

            "No," Irene smiled. "But I believe you are related to him through your mother's side..."

            Draco frowned as he thought hard, searching his memory for what he knew of his extensive family tree. Then all of a sudden it dawned on him. 

            "Lestrange," he breathed out in realization. "He's a Lestrange, isn't he?"

            Mrs Fielding nodded.

            Draco sat back in his chair in shock.

            "Do you have any pictures of Ethan when he was little?" Hermione asked, quickly.

            Irene brightened instantly. "Of course, excuse me for a minute."

            Hermione waited until Mrs Fielding had left the room before turning to Draco. "I can't believe this..."

            "I'm related to him..." Draco trailed off in disbelief. 

            "And what does all this have to do with Harry?" Hermione wondered, anxiously.

            "I wish I knew..."

            Mrs Fielding returned, carrying a large, blue photo album. She proceeded to sit herself down next to Hermione and flip it open to the first page.

            "Uh, excuse me," Draco interrupted, standing. "Where's the toilet?"

            "Just down the hall, under the stairs."

            "Thanks." Draco smiled, then walked out of the kitchen and down the hall. He reached the bathroom door and glanced back – Hermione and Mrs Fielding were almost hidden from view and completely ensconced in the photograph album.

            Draco quickly turned and strode into the foyer and up the stairs, treading delicately on each step so as not to make a sound. He reached the upstairs landing and saw four doors; two closed and two open. The open doors showed another restroom and, what appeared to be, a guest bedroom. He carefully opened one of the closed doors and peeked inside. It was painted a pale, mocha brown and had a Hogwarts poster tacked up on the wall. 

            Draco quickly slipped inside and closed the door.

            The room was impeccably neat; clothes hung in the closet, bed made, and floor spotless.

            He walked over to the closet and stood on his tip-toes to see the high shelves. There were three shoe boxes and a medium-sized gym bag sitting neatly on them. He pulled down the boxes and set them on the bed, then dragged down the gym bag, but discovered that it was empty and threw it back.

            The first box contained toys, very old and beginning to disintegrate. There was a stuffed dragon, a spinning top decorated with tiny stars, and a plastic wand. Also, some cards and other non-important rubbish.

            Draco placed the lid back on and opened the next one. Inside was a pair of shoes.

            He closed that one and went on to the last. Inside were Ethan's adoption papers, a few loose photographs of him with the Fieldings', and two wands – _real_ wands.

            Draco picked them up and looked at them. 

            Rashly, he decided to pocket them and put the boxes away.

            He was about to leave when something told him to look under the bed. 

            So, he knelt down and lifted the cream-coloured bed skirt. Nothing. 

            Draco let it fall back into place and stood up, then noticed some paper sticking out from between the mattresses. Curiously, he bent over and slid his hands underneath, and lifted the mattress all the way up.

            Draco gasped.

            Laid out over the entire mattress was a collage of newspaper articles and pictures, all of which contained Harry's name and face. He stared in shock at the sight in front of him, his eyes flitting from one photograph to another. 

            Harry's picture smiled up at him and waved. 

            Feeling sick, Draco lowered the mattress back down and turned away from the twisted mural. He left Ethan's room and dazedly walked back to the kitchen.

            "Are you alright, dear?" Mrs Fielding asked in concern, noting his pale face.

            "Not really," Draco swallowed. "I think I'd better get back to school."

            Hermione stood up and frowned worriedly, as Draco turned and headed for the front door.

            "Thank you for everything." Hermione smiled gratefully at Mrs Fielding.

            "Your welcome, honey." She smiled in return, following Hermione to the door. "Tell Ethan that he's still welcome to come home for Christmas if he changes his mind. It'll be his first Christmas away from home and I'm a little worried that he might get homesick over there by himself."

            "Don't worry, _we'll_ be there for him," Hermione assured her. "Goodbye."

            Hermione waved and ran to catch up to Draco on the sidewalk. "What happened?"

            "I found Ethan's bedroom..."

            "And?"

            "He had all these newspaper articles and pictures of Harry hidden under his mattress," Draco said in disgust, feeling nauseous again at the memory.

            "Oh, god..." Hermione expelled in shock. "We have to get back."

            "I need to go to Diagon Alley first," Draco said, snapping out of his daze and stepping over his broom handle.

            "Why?" Hermione asked, picking up her broom from where they had left them earlier.

            "I found two wands in his closet and I think they belonged to Ethan's parents – his _real_ parents. I'm going to take them to Ollivander's to find out. If they are the Lestrange's wands, then we have to give them over to the Ministry."

            He pushed off of the ground and Hermione soon joined him in the air.

            "I'm impressed," she said, flying beside him.

            "Why?"

            "Because you want to hand over the Lestrange's wands to the Ministry."

            "Why wouldn't I? What would I do with them?"

            "Give them to your father. I figured you'd do anything to gain his approval."

            "You don't know me as much as you think you do," Draco replied, coldly.

            "I guess not," Hermione murmured, glancing at him.

            Diagon Alley was busy; packed with holiday shoppers and kids on Christmas break.

            Hermione walked a few feet behind Draco as they headed for Ollivander's, careful not to be seen together.

            The bell jingled pleasantly over the door as Draco pushed inside the old wand shop. He hadn't been inside since that day when he was eleven, choosing his own wand with childish excitement. It was also the first time he ever saw Harry.

            "Mr Malfoy, what a surprise."

            Draco turned and saw Mr Ollivander coming out from between the tall shelves of dusty wand boxes.

            "I was wondering if you could help me with something," Draco started, stepping forward. "Could you tell me who these wands belong to?"

            Mr Ollivander walked over and reached for the two wands. He lifted them into the light and inspected them with narrowed eyes. "Where did you find these?"

            "Er.."

            At that moment, Hermione stepped into the shop and hurried over.

            "So, what did you find out?" she asked, breathlessly.

            "Miss Granger?" Mr Ollivander raised a brow, looking between the two students.

            "Do you know who they belong to?" she asked, ignoring the questioning gaze.

            "I should say so," Mr Ollivander said, clearing his throat. "I sold them both myself, and I never forget a wand. They both happen to belong to wizards who are now deceased."

            "What? But-"

            "This one belonged to a man named Alec Fielding. He died about four or five years ago, if I'm not mistaken."

            "Irene's husband." Hermione nodded.

            "And the other?" Draco asked.

            "This one is not quite as old as the other," Mr Ollivander informed with a touch of sadness, squinting at the smooth wooden surface of the wand. "It belonged to a man named Remus Lupin."

                        *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *

            Ron paced back and forth outside the Entrance doors to Hogwarts, scanning the darkening sky anxiously for any sign of Hermione and Draco.

            "Ron!"

            Ron turned to his right and saw Hermione and Draco rushing towards him from around the side of the school, brooms still clutched in their hands.

            He leapt down the stairs and met them halfway.

            "Ron, you won't believe-" Hermione panted.

            "Never mind that," Ron cut across her, frantically. "Harry's missing."

            His words were met by a stunned silence.


	22. Beneath the Stars

_  
  
Inside I'm screaming,_  
_begging, pleading no more _

"Where are we going?" Harry asked, eyebrows drawing together in confusion. 

Ethan was walking in the opposite direction of the Slytherin dorms, and away from the dungeons.

"A change of plans, Harry," Ethan announced quite cheerfully. It was the first words he'd spoken at all since starting off from Gryffindor Tower. "I'm afraid that there are just too many prying eyes in that Slytherin house."

"Draco," Harry concluded for himself, although he didn't venture to voice it aloud.

"We'll just have to do this somewhere else."

Harry kept his head down and watched the ancient, grey flagstones pass by under his feet. Ethan spoke as if he were talking about a tea party or some kind of a game. But this _was_ a game to him. A game of what, Harry still had no clue.

"Do what exactly?" he had to ask.

"You'll see," Ethan grinned, almost skipping down the deserted corridor in barely contained excitement. "It's a surprise."

Harry was grateful that the majority of students had gone to bed early in order to wake up in time to catch the train home for Christmas. He didn't want to see anyone at the moment. He didn't want to change his mind about this.

"What _are_ you doing?" he asked himself. "Are you actually willingly walking off into a situation that could quite possibly mean your death? Was it really only a few hours ago that you were contemplating the thought of suicide?"

Harry shook his head and frowned. He didn't know what to think anymore, or how to feel. He felt overwhelmed, anxious, confused...he was drowning in questions that he had no answers for, and now not enough time to properly consider at all. He didn't want to think. He was just so tired...

He continued to stare dully at the floor, following Ethan like some kind of lost puppy with no will of its own, towards some unknown destination.

"The Great Hall?" Harry questioned, staring dubiously up at the ornate double doors standing closed in front of him.

Ethan smiled and grasped the door handles with both hands, then flung them wide open, like a king entering his throne room.

"Go on up to the front," Ethan instructed.

Harry slowly entered the dining hall and started up the long centre aisle.

Now he felt completely overwhelmed. Each step was another tick of the clock counting down to whatever it was that was going to happen here tonight.

He glanced sideways at the old worn tables and benches. So many memories etched into the scratched grain of the wood. He only had to close his eyes and he was back in first year, being sorted by Professor McGonagall in front of the entire school, and being scared to death of the whole situation. Come to think of it, most of his memories of Hogwarts had him being frightened out of his mind; Professor Quirrel and the stone, the Basilisk, petrified students, escaped convicts, Tri-Wizard Tournaments, Cedric, graveyards, Voldemort's resurrection, Dementors, the Department of Mysteries...

It was endless. It was a wonder he was still alive at all.

But those weren't the memories that stood out for him, they were mere side tales to the winding story of his life. He thought about his first train ride and meeting his first friend – his first best friend – Ron. The friendship that grew between the two boys and Hermione after the troll incident. Playing quidditch, flying, winning the cup for his house and making them proud. Playing chess and Exploding Snap, quiet evenings in front of the fire, trips to Hogsmeade, laughing, talking, crying....

Those were the memories that warmed the heart. Those were the memories he cherished.

So what had happened?

Draco.

"No," Harry thought, shaking his head. "It was never about, Draco. It has always been my _own_ choices mapping out the course of my life, and Draco was one of those choices, a bad choice perhaps, but a choice never-the-less."

And now here he was at a cross-road. Another choice to make.

Harry wearily climbed the stairs up to the platform on which the head table stood, his head aching from all the thinking and worrying, desperate to figure out what he wanted.

He leaned his arms on the table, his head bowed and dark fringe falling forward over his closed eyes. He could hear Ethan finish the locking spells on the doors at the other end of the hall, then turn and make his way up the long aisle behind him.

Harry slowly opened his eyes and stared down at his pale hands pressed into the dark, mahogany table beneath him, his mind suddenly and surprisingly clear.

"Harry." Ethan's voice floated up to him from behind.

Harry nodded to himself and turned around.

"Do it."

"I beg your pardon?" Ethan blinked in surprise.

"Whatever you're planning on doing to me tonight, just go ahead and get it over with. Now."

"And if that involves me killing-"

"Then kill me."

A slow smile spread across Ethan's face as he stood contemplating the determined set of Harry's dark, green eyes. "I see," he replied interestedly. "I'm so pleased that you're willing to co-operate."

Ethan withdrew his wand as he spoke and stroked the pale wood reverently, cleaning it of imaginary dust. "And what brought about this sudden decision?" he asked mildly.

"The fact that my entire life has become a tangled mess of shit that I don't have the energy or even the will to deal with anymore," Harry vented passionately, voice rising with every word. "Every decision I've ever made has always affected someone or something else. Every action I take can literally mean life or death for someone else. Well, this decision only affects me, and I'm making it now. So, do it."

"Why weren't you watching him?" Draco demanded angrily, practically spitting in his fury as he took a step closer to Ron and glared into the red-head's pale face.

"I...I was," Ron spluttered defensively. "I only left to get Dumbledore, like Harry asked. I thought he'd be safe. I wasn't gone that long...I mean, he was in Gryffindor Tower for Christ's sake!"

"Did anyone see him leave?" Hermione questioned, trying to keep her voice calm and reasonable.

"I don't...I'm not sure," Ron admitted miserably. "I came straight here, I didn't talk to anyone. This is all my fault..."

"Your damn right-"

"Malfoy!" Hermione barked sharply. "You can blame Ron all you want later, right now we need to focus on finding Harry."

Draco narrowed his eyes warningly at Ron, then took a step back.

"Now," Hermione started, turning her attention back to Ron. "What did Professor Dumbledore say?"

"He's not here."

"What?" Hermione swallowed, a fearful chill suddenly crawling up her spine. "Where did he go?"

"Somewhere on business, I guess," Ron answered.

"It's just like in first year," Hermione murmured quietly. "Distract the headmaster..."

"Snape wouldn't tell me-"

"You talked to Professor Snape?" Draco cut in sharply.

"Yeah." Ron nodded, a flicker of dislike darkening his eyes. "Greasy bastard wouldn't tell me anything."

"Of course not," Draco snorted with cool superiority. "Why would he trust _you_ with important information?"

Hermione quickly spoke up before Ron could reply. "So, Snape knows something. We need to find him and ask where the headmaster went, then get him back as soon as possible."

"We don't need that old coot," Draco said impatiently. "We know where Harry is, let's just get him back on our own."

"Where is he, then?" Ron asked.

"In the Slytherin dorms with Ethan, of course."

"How can you be so sure?" Hermione asked. "What if Ethan's already carried him off to You-Know-Who?"

"Yeah," Ron put in loudly. "Hang on, how did You-Know-Who get involved in all this?"

"Because Ethan is a Lestrange," Draco informed him distractedly, then turned to Hermione. "We need to check the Slytherin dorms first, then, if he's not there, we'll decide on what to do next. Right now, we're just wasting time arguing about it."

Draco turned and swiftly walked across the frozen ground and up the stairs to the Hogwarts entrance, Ron and Hermione following right behind him without hesitation.

The three entered the quiet hush of the Entrance Hall and made for the dungeon corridor, completely unaware in their haste of the faint, white glow emanating from the keyholes of the doors to the Great Hall and the murmur of voices within.

Draco called out the password as soon as he was in sight of the Slytherin entrance. The wall obediently slid open and Ron and Hermione were quick to scramble through as Draco practically sprinted the rest of the way down the narrow corridor and into the Slytherin common room.

The two Gryffindors barely had time to take in the cool silver and green opulence of the room, before following Draco across to an adjoining hall.

"Shh..." Draco shushed them, as they approached one of the doors, withdrawing his wand as he crept silently towards it and laid an ear to the black surface.

"Ouch!" he hissed and jumped back.

"Idiot," Hermione muttered. "Do you think Ethan's stupid enough to over-look the necessity of silencing and protection spells on his room?"

"Well, what do _you_ suggest?" Draco snapped, rubbing his smarting ear, the burning feeling from the privacy spell already fading to a warm tingle.

"Just give me a sec." Hermione pursed her lips thoughtfully and tapped her wand against her temple.

Draco shifted restlessly as he waited.

"What about Alohamora?" Ron suggested.

"Too simple," Hermione denounced immediately.

Draco tapped his foot and silently willed the door to open.

"Ingredior."

The three held their breath as Hermione touched her wand to the door and whispered the curse breaker.

Nothing.

Ron reached his hand for the knob.

"No, don't!" Hermione hissed, grabbing his arm. "It didn't work. You might set off an alarm or something by touching it while it's still active."

She dropped his arm and returned to studying the door with furrowed concentration.

"This is stupid," Draco finally announced, throwing his hands in the air. "I'm going to get Professor Snape."

"Are you crazy?" Ron exclaimed, forgetting to keep his voice down. "He'll kill us for being in here. _And_ it's past curfew!"

"Not if I explain everything to him," Draco said. "He needs to know about Ethan. We're going to need his involvement sooner-or-later anyway."

"I wish Dumbledore was here," Ron pouted, turning away.

"Are you really going to tell Snape _everything_?" Hermione asked, pointedly.

Draco returned her gaze with practiced indifference. "I don't know. Maybe. I can trust him."

Ron snorted, but refrained from comment.

"Stay here and keep trying the door," Draco instructed. "I'll be back soon."

Draco turned and started when he saw Crabbe and Goyle standing at the end of the hallway in their pyjamas, identical looks of vacant confusion on their faces.

"We thought we heard your voice," Crabbe started uncertainly. "We were waiting for you to come back..."

"Where were you?" Goyle asked curiously, staring openly at Ron and Hermione.

"I'll explain later," Draco said, walking towards them. "There's a bit of an emergency and I need your help. I have to fetch Professor Snape and bring him here. Could you two stand guard and make sure that no one comes down here and disturbs these two Gryffindors?"

"Of course," Goyle agreed immediately, never one to question his long-time friend and leader.

"I knew I could count on you two." Draco flashed them a quick, grateful smile, then slipped past into the common room and towards the exit.

Crabbe and Goyle smiled, glowing with pride at Draco's words, while stationing themselves near a nervous looking Ron and Hermione.

"Shall we get back to work on the door, then?" Ron said, uneasily.

"Right." Hermione turned her attention back to the locked door, determined to try every curse breaking spell she knew.

Draco hurried towards Snape's office, located only a few corridors away, and banged on his door.

"Mr Malfoy," Snape greeted in surprise, looking as if he had been rushing around his quarters just before opening the door.

"Can I talk to you for a minute?"

"If you make it quick," Snape answered shortly. "Filch can't seem to gain access to the Great Hall right now, and I have to go help that useless squib out."

"Well, er..." Draco hesitated, his courage failing him. "Uh, over the summer...I, uh..."

"Oh, for heaven's sake!" Snape exclaimed in exasperation. "Come with me and explain along the way."

"Yes, sir," Draco replied in embarrassment.

The blond fell into step beside his head of house and stared hard at the ground as they set off at a brisk pace for the dining hall, Snape all the while muttering about blithering idiots, and Draco wasn't sure whether his professor was talking about him or Filch.

"I need your help," Draco found himself suddenly blurting out.

"Indeed?"

"It has to do with, Potter – I mean, Harry."

"I see." Snape nodded. "What about the little hero?"

"Don't call him that," Draco frowned. "He's in trouble, at least, I think he is."

"That boy's always in trouble, but I can only assume you mean something out of the ordinary."

"Yes. It has to do with that new kid, Ethan Fiori."

Snape stopped abruptly and turned to face Draco, his face suddenly very serious. "What about him?"

Draco blinked in surprise, faltering slightly in his response. "I...I found something out about him. About his family."

"Well?"

"He's a Lestrange," Draco rushed out. "I know it sounds ludicrous-"

"No, I believe you," Snape interrupted. He turned away, frowning. "Of course, why didn't I see it before? Rabastan's son. I warned Albus about that boy..."

"Where _is_ the headmaster?" Draco inquired.

Snape jerked his head around, as if only just noticing that Draco was still there. "He's away on business."

"But-"

"Come along," Snape abruptly cut across him and began walking away.

Draco quickly caught up, confusion clouding his grey eyes. Snape had always told him anything he had ever wanted or needed to know, unless he had good reason not to, even if it was about the Order or the Dark Lord.

The two walked the rest of the journey to the Great Hall in tight-lipped silence, Draco still trying to find the words to tell his professor about the strange occurrences of the last few months and how it all involved Harry Potter and himself.

Snape stopped in the Entrance Hall and told Draco to stay out while he spoke to Filch, who was standing with Mrs Norris by the large double doors to the dining hall.

Draco watched as Snape spoke quietly to the old caretaker, keeping his dark, narrowed eyes all-the-while on the locked doors beside him.

Snape finally sent Filch away with an impatient wave of his hand, then frowned as he leaned down to inspect the strange white glow coming from the keyholes of the tall doors.

Filch stalked past Draco on his way out, the two sneering at each other with mutual dislike.

"Sir?" Draco spoke tentatively, moving towards Snape.

"Stay back," Snape ordered, holding one hand up to still him.

"What is it?"

"The doors have been magically sealed," Snape explained. "By Dark magic...very weak Dark magic."

"Weak?"

"A spell a first year could've performed easily, even Longbottom."

Severus turned his head and tilted his ear towards the door.

"Is there someone in there?" Draco whispered.

Snape shushed him with a wave of his hand.

Draco chewed his bottom lip and quietly sidled forward.

"I thought I told you to stay back," Snape said, without looking up.

"But I might be able to help..."

Snape finally turned his gaze towards him. "How?"

"I think this might have something to do with, Ethan."

"I only hear one voice in there, and it happens to belong to Harry Potter."

Draco rushed forwards, heedless of his professor's death glare, and pressed his ear against the door.

Snape straightened up and crossed his arms over his chest, regarding his young pupil suspiciously. "You'd better tell me everything, Draco."

Draco could make out Harry's voice within the large hall on the other side of the door, but could not decipher what he was saying. He took a deep breath and stepped back. He needed to do this – for Harry.

He looked up at the only adult he trusted in the whole world and forced himself to speak. "I'm in love with Harry Potter."

"And?"

Draco gaped. "And? That's all you have to say – 'and'?"

"I was already aware of your ill-fated relationship with Mr Potter long before it became public knowledge. I've even spoken to your father-"

"My father?" Draco exclaimed in shock.

"Yes, and I explained to him about your little plan to gain the boy's trust and use it against him."

Draco's jaw only dropped further. "You...covered for me?"

"Against my better judgement, yes."

"Thank you, sir," Draco said in quiet gratitude. "But, how did you know that that's not really what I was planning?"

"I know you too well, Draco," Snape explained with a smirk. "You think you're hiding your emotions, but you still have these unguarded moments once in awhile in which you are as easy to read as Mr Potter himself. Although, he's been something of a mystery lately."

Draco nodded. "He's in trouble. Ethan is...hurting him and he's hiding it from everyone."

"I can't imagine Potter simply taking abuse from anyone-"

"It's my fault," Draco admitted miserably. "I abandoned him. I hurt him..."

"That doesn't mean Potter should just go around letting people take advantage of him. You're hardly the one to blame in this, Draco. He's behaving in a weak, self-pitying way, exactly what I've come to expect from him. Don't blame yourself for his poor orphan complexes."

"You don't know him!" Draco exclaimed angrily. "You don't know what he's gone through, you only know what you hear from others and the papers. He's not the self-absorbed celebrity that you think he is. He has a lot to deal with, not just this thing with Ethan and myself, but with the Dark Lord and the pressures of the wizarding world, and he never complains. You don't know the real him at all!"

Snape scowled. "Thanks to that undignified tirade on the merits of Harry Potter, we have now alerted whoever's inside of our presence."

Draco's hand shot to his mouth and he turned wide eyes towards the double doors of the Great Hall, the voices inside now completely quiet.

"Don't move," Snape warned in a hushed voice.

Draco was about to whisper back that he needed to get out his wand, but suddenly the doors flew open with an explosion of light and sound, throwing both Draco and Snape to the floor with great force.

Snape hit the ground, then immediately jumped into action; his black robe swirling around him as he leapt back to his feet and grabbed up his wand, then turned to kneel and point it at whoever was standing in the doorway.

Unfortunately, Ethan was just that much faster and already had his wand pointed at Draco's head.

"I suggest that you drop your wand and step back professor," Ethan smirked. "Or your little protégé here is going to be dust in a matter of seconds."

Snape only gripped his wand tighter. "I doubt you have the skill or the power necessary to perform any of the Unforgivables, let alone the killing curse."

Ethan's smile disappeared and his right eye twitched. "What would you know about power? I know who you really work for, you're just another one of the Dark Lord's slaves."

"And your not?"

Ethan's smile returned. "No, I'm not. But, when I do become one of his members, I will be treated with the greatest respect and honour. I won't be just another mask in the crowd."

"And why not? Your dad is," Snape shot back.

"My dad is a fool," Ethan proclaimed with contempt. "I will be much more important than he ever was."

"And why is that?" Snape asked, vying for time.

"Because I will do what no other Death Eater, or even Voldemort himself, has been able to do," Ethan grinned with superiority. "I will deliver them Harry Potter's dead body on a silver platter."

Draco growled and made to stand, but stopped when Ethan wiggled his wand warningly at him.

"I'm afraid I can't let that happen," Snape informed him coolly.

"But it isn't my choice," Ethan explained. "Harry has already made his decision, and he has agreed to let me have my way."

"That's a lie!" Draco cried.

Ethan only laughed.

"The headmaster-" Snape started.

"Will not be back any time soon," Ethan interrupted calmly, turning to look at him. "For some one who you proclaim to be unskilful in the ways of magic, I sure can manipulate the best of you with ease. Now, hand over your wand."

Ethan walked forwards and reached for Snape's wand.

"_You_ sent the headmaster away?" Snape asked, trying to distract the boy from Draco, who was beginning to move along the floor towards them.

"Yes, he should be approaching the trap now." Ethan plucked the wand from his hand.

Snape stood quickly. Ethan whipped his wand up to point at the tall professor, Snape's own wand pointed behind him at, Draco.

"You're lying."

"And if I'm not?" Ethan challenged.

Snape's lips pressed themselves into a thin line as he considered the fully composed boy in front of him.

"If you want to go after Dumbledore and save him, then you had better leave right now."

"And leave you here alone in the school with Harry Potter? I think not."

"Go professor," Draco commanded, staring hard at Ethan.

"Mr Malfoy, I am not leaving you-"

"Go!" Draco yelled, then leapt to his feet and threw his entire body at Ethan. Ethan, who still had his wand directed at Severus, was caught off-guard and fell back with Draco into the Great Hall.

The doors swung shut automatically as soon as the boys had passed over the threshold, slamming together with a deafening bang.

Snape was left gaping at the sealed doors from the other side. He clenched his hands with angry frustration, wishing that he hadn't given up his wand, then turned and headed for Dumbledore's office and the only source within Hogwarts with access to the Floo Network.

Draco felt the breath knocked from his body as he landed heavily on the stone floor with Ethan on top. Ethan recovered from the sudden attack and withdrew his wand to hold it to Draco's throat. Draco opened his eyes, breathing heavily.

Ethan had a manic glint in his eyes as he shuffled backwards and slowly got to his feet, all the while holding his wand on Draco. He picked up Snape's wand, which he had accidentally dropped during the scuffle, and dropped it into his cloak pocket.

"So," Ethan panted, eyes still gleaming. "You solved that little problem."

"What problem?" Draco asked, rising to rest his weight on his elbows.

"Of what to do with that nosy potions professor. I only expected _you_ to come here tonight, and maybe those pesky Gryffindors, but now it's just you and me – exactly what I wanted. And I always get what I want."

"What did you want me for?"

"I just wanted you to make sure that you knew that it was Harry's decision to die tonight, and that I didn't do it against his will."

"Fuck you," Draco growled. "You just wanted someone to witness your sick triumph over Harry Potter, and it's not his decision if you fucking confuse the hell out of him and beat him into submission."

Ethan only smiled more. "You're right. Doesn't mean that I won't still kill him, though."

"You're not going to get anywhere near him," Draco threatened.

"Get up," Ethan ordered, still smiling. "Then you can see him."

Draco slowly stood and glanced around the room. "Where is he?"

"Come along, Malfoy." Ethan marched Draco in front of him towards the platform at the end of the hall, his wand pointed at the blonde's unprotected back.

Draco scanned the eerily quiet hall as he walked, conscious of Ethan's presence and the wand directed at him from behind. He squinted as he neared the front and gasped in horror at what he saw.

Harry was tied to the headmaster's chair, metal wire with sharp barbs attached were wrapped tightly around his wrists, ankles, and waist. The concealing charm had obviously been lifted, and amid the old bruises and cuts were fresh wounds, blood oozing thickly from them and dripping onto the floor. His head was bowed and his eyes closed.

Draco cried out and ran forward, not caring whether Ethan was going to curse him or not.

Luckily, Ethan only smiled as the scene unfolded in front of him.

Draco jumped onto the platform and ran to Harry's side.

"Harry," he croaked, tears welling up in his eyes as he saw at close range the damage that had been caused to his once care-free and beautiful boyfriend. "God, what has he done to you?"

He desperately wanted to touch Harry's face, but there wasn't a spot on him that would allow him to caress without inflicting pain.

"Harry? Please open your eyes, love. It's, Draco."

Ethan continued to watch with interest, his wand now lowered to his side, revelling in the obvious emotional pain.

Draco continued to murmur words of love and comfort into Harry's ear, begging the Gryffindor to wake and open his eyes, or to respond in some way.

Harry finally moaned very quietly, slowly resurfacing into consciousness. He squeezed his eyes closed even harder at the sudden onslaught of pain throbbing throughout every part of his body.

"Harry?" Draco pressed, edging closer, his breath ghosting across Harry's face.

Harry heard the voice as if in a far away dream and sighed as the warm air brushed across his skin. He recognized the voice, it was familiar, but couldn't remember who it belonged to. It sounded safe. It was comfort. The voice wanted to protect him, love him.

"Harry, its Draco. Please open your eyes."

Draco.

Harry's eyes snapped open in realization. He looked up into a pair of concerned silver eyes and gasped.

"No," he uttered faintly. "No,no,no,no,no...."

"Shh, Harry," Draco soothed. "It's okay. I'm here to help."

Harry could only stare in shock and continue to mumble quietly to himself.

Ethan sat down on the end of the Ravenclaw table and leaned forward onto his knees to watch in pleasure. The two other people in the room completely oblivious to his presence.

"Harry, calm down," Draco continued, trying to snap Harry out of his trance.

Harry stopped talking. Suddenly, it all came back to him and he remembered where he was, what he was doing there, and who was currently in front of him.

"Harry?"

Harry swallowed and avoided the blonde's worried gaze. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm here because I care about you."

Harry almost laughed out loud. Draco was mocking him. Draco didn't care about him.

Harry looked past the Slytherin and into the amused brown eyes of Ethan.

"I told you we had to wait for another guest before the party started," Ethan grinned.

"Why did you want him here?" Harry asked, ignoring Draco's close proximity.

"Because it makes it more fun. Who says three's a crowd?"

"I don't want him here."

"Oh, don't be such a party pooper," Ethan admonished pleasantly. He stood up and walked towards the two, humming a little waltz as he approached. "Shall we get to the main event?"

Draco straightened up and glared.

"I think Harry's a bit anxious to get to it, isn't he?" Ethan smiled.

"Fine, let him stay," Harry said, uncaringly. "Just do it already."

"No." Draco kneeled beside Harry's chair and looked into his impassive face earnestly. "Please, Harry. Just say you don't want him to kill you and he won't do it. Will you?"

Draco glanced to Ethan and he nodded.

Harry turned towards Draco and searched that achingly familiar face. "But I want him to," he said quietly.

"No, Harry." Draco's voice broke as he shook his head, tears now falling from his eyes. "I won't let him. You can't die. I want you to stay here...with me."

"No, you don't," Harry smiled faintly. "You will be better off without me, everyone will be. You'll see. Have you forgotten about the past already? You didn't want me, you still don't, you've just forgotten."

"I remember, Harry, I haven't forgotten. But I made a mistake back then, and I'm so sorry. I know I'll never make it up to you, but I want to try, and even if you don't want to be with me, you still need to live. Other people need you, too."

Harry sighed and shook his head. "No. They don't need me, because I don't care anymore. Don't you see? I don't care. They would be so disappointed in me. I only manage to disappoint everyone...or get other people killed. This is the only solution."

"Oh, don't be so stupid!" Draco exclaimed. "Don't you see what this would mean to the entire wizarding world? This isn't the only answer. You're being selfish. You're taking the easy way out."

"You think this is easy?" Harry shouted, starting to get angry. "This is all your fault, so if you want someone to blame then look no further than yourself, Malfoy."

Draco ignored the pain of Harry's accusation and kept trying to provoke the boy, to get him to feel something, anything.

"Yes, this _is_ the easy way out. You're just giving up and letting Voldemort win. You think that once you're gone people won't die? Harry, the hope of defeating Voldemort will die with you."

"Is that why you want to save me?" Harry asked, suddenly quiet again.

Draco sighed and kneeled back down. "No. I want to save you because I love you."

Harry felt a tiny spark of hope ignite in his poor, scarred heart. "You do?"

Ethan frowned. "I think that's enough talking now."

"Yes, I love you and I want to be with you. But most of all I just want you to be happy again. I want to make things right again, Harry."

"I want to be happy," Harry whispered, longingly. "I don't know how anymore..."

"I'll help you," Draco promised. "Just live first, okay? The rest will come."

Harry started to smile, his eyes filling with warmth and hope again. The feeling so foreign that Harry marvelled at long it had been since he had felt hopeful of anything in his life.

"I won't let you down this time," Draco vowed, making sure Harry knew that he meant every word he was saying.

"Stop it!" Ethan shouted.

"Draco..." Harry breathed, tears blurring his vision. The pain fading away into the background as he looked upon Draco's determined face; those silvery grey eyes shining with what could only be called love.

Ethan growled in annoyance and raised his wand. "Stupefy!"

A bolt of red light shot out of his wand and hit Draco square in the back.

Draco cried out and fell forward onto the floor.

"Draco!" Harry exclaimed, staring down at his unconscious body.

Ethan flicked his wand and levitated Draco's body over the head table and down to the floor in front of the platform.

"What are you doing?" Harry demanded, struggling against his bonds, which only caused the barbs to dig deeper into his flesh.

"Just thought I'd practice on him first, before getting to you."

Harry almost sobbed in frustration as he could only sit and watch Ethan lay the body down and stand over Draco with a concentrated expression. Ethan set aside his wand and removed a large dagger from his belt.

"What is that for?" Harry gasped. "Why aren't you using your wand?"

"It's much more fun this way," Ethan smiled, stroking the blade. "More hands on. I always use it."

"This isn't your fist time," Harry concluded hollowly.

"Of course not," Ethan said, proudly.

Draco stirred on the floor and blearily opened his eyes.

"Ah, Mr Malfoy," Ethan greeted happily. "I did so want you to be awake for this."

"How many others have you killed?" Harry asked, trying to distract him.

"Only two, so you should feel blessed."

Harry felt sick at being so easily tricked by such a psychotic madman. And now it was his fault that Draco was going to die, too.

"Wait!" Harry cried. "Don't kill him. Kill me instead."

"No!" Draco protested hoarsely.

Ethan paused. "Hmm...well, I did want Malfoy to witness your death. It has a certain poetic justice to it."

"No!" Draco shouted again. "Leave him alone. I don't care what happens to me."

"Ugh!" Ethan rolled his eyes. "You two are so fucking noble, it's making me sick."

Harry held his breath as Ethan seemed to consider his options.

"Alright," he decided. "Harry, I believe you get the honour."

Ethan pointed his wand at Draco, and the same cords holding Harry in place snaked from the end and wrapped themselves around his wrists and ankles. He couldn't move an inch and bit his lip to keep from crying out as the barbs sunk into his skin.

Ethan smirked at Draco's immobile form, then stepped across him and up to the head table.

"Harry!" Draco cried out. "Don't do it!"

Harry let out a shuddered breath and held his tears at bay. He would not cry now, he wouldn't let Ethan get the satisfaction.

"Are you ready, Harry?" Ethan asked, coming to stand in front of the table, holding his precious knife in one hand.

"Yes." Harry nodded firmly.

"Harry," Draco sobbed brokenly, hearing the quiet resignation in Harry's voice. He needed to make Harry angry again, he needed to make him feel something so that he would want to live through this...

But what could he say?

"Harry!" Draco suddenly yelled with urgency. "Ethan has killed before."

"I know," Harry responded dully. "Two others."

Ethan wiped the dagger blade on his cloak, cleaning the gleaming silver.

"Do you know who?" Draco continued.

"No..."

"He murdered Remus Lupin, Harry. One of them was, Lupin."

Harry felt his body run cold, his eyes wide in frozen disbelief. He turned glazed eyes towards Ethan and couldn't even speak.

Ethan smiled and shrugged. "I guess you should've come with me to Hogsmeade that day."

He was stunned. He couldn't move...couldn't breathe...

"Sorry about that, Harry," Ethan shrugged nonchalantly. "I needed to weaken your emotions and he was the closest thing to a parent that you had, so..."

Harry felt the disbelief leave him, and suddenly a red hot rage burned strong throughout his entire body. The pain disappeared completely and he turned sparkling emerald eyes towards Ethan.

Ethan took a step back, but then smiled and took his knife in hand. "Say goodbye, Harry."

Harry could feel the magic building in his body, flowing out to his finger-tips and sparking in the air around him. Anger as he had never felt before was fuelling his desire to break free.

Ethan frowned as the lights in the Hall dimmed and flickered.

Draco waited with baited breath, lying motionless on the floor and unable to see what was happening above him. He could feel the collective magic stirring in the air, and knew that it belonged to Harry. It felt familiar, and very, very powerful.

Harry clenched his hands into fists and glared at Ethan with pure, unadulterated hate.

Ethan gripped the dagger determinedly and strode toward Harry.

But he never reached him.

An sudden blast erupted from Harry and engulfed the entire room with shockingly, bright light. The torches went out and a gust of wind rushed through the room and swirled around the three occupants. Green sparks flashed and crackled. The tables and benches shook and vibrated, the very stones rumbled, and dust fell from the walls. The enchanted ceiling above went pitch black, the stars usually reflected there at night were snuffed out, the moon gone. A rushing sound filled the room, increasing in pitch until it was almost unbearable.

Then it was over.

The torches re-ignited and the stars returned to twinkle above in the ceiling. The Hall became deathly quiet, as if someone had suddenly turned down the sound.

Draco cautiously opened his eyes and looked around. Everything looked the same, but he couldn't see the top of the platform where Harry was.

"Harry?" he called out, desperately hoping that he was alright.

There was a quiet thud and then suddenly Harry was there beside him, kneeling next to him and using Ethan's dagger to cut him free.

"Harry," Draco breathed out in relief. He shook the cut wire from himself and sat up.

Harry stood up and the dagger fell from his fingers, clattering onto the stone floor. "I did it," he marvelled.

Draco smiled and stood up. He looked towards the platform and saw that Ethan had been knocked unconscious, and was sprawled in a very awkward looking position on the floor.

"He's still alive," Draco mused.

Harry nodded, his body beginning to tremble.

"What the hell happened, Harry?" Draco asked curiously, turning to face him. "Harry?"

Harry swallowed and felt his vision fade as he began to crumple to the floor.

"Harry!" Draco exclaimed, quickly grabbing him to keep him from falling.

Harry's eyes closed and his breathing slowed down as he fell into a deep, exhausted sleep.

Draco exhaled in relief and swung Harry's light body up into his arms. He looked down at the sleeping boy with the lightening bolt scar and knew that he was holding some one very special, and that this time he wouldn't let him go. He pressed his lips to Harry's forehead and tenderly kissed the famous mark. Harry's skin was warm beneath his lips and he noticed that Harry smiled in his sleep at the gentle contact.

A pounding on the Great Hall doors broke the trance and Draco looked up to see Snape, Dumbledore, Ron, Hermione, McGonagall, Crabbe and Goyle, and what looked like all of Gryffindor, come rushing into the room.

He sighed wearily, thinking about the very long and complicated explanation he was now going to have to go through.

He looked down again at Harry's peaceful face, suddenly envying his unconscious state.

"Draco! What happened? Where's Ethan? Is Harry okay?"

Draco sighed and took a deep, steadying breath.


	23. Walking Away

_A/N_ Sorry about the extremely long lapse in updates. blushes sheepishly I swear the next one will not take as long. I'm hoping to have it up by next week.

mojo-jojo241 – Of course you can recommend my fic. I never say no to free publicity. ;)

Just a thanks to everyone that's reviewed so far. You've all been so nice and supportive, and I just luv ya!

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_   
  
I should've known I was used for amusement  
Couldn't see through the smoke  
__It was all an illusion _

  
  
Draco shut the door behind him and walked through the softly filtered moonlight towards the hospital bed. He lowered his weary body into the chair at Harry's bedside, grey eyes heavy with exhaustion and concern for the sleeping angel. He itched to slip into bed beside Harry and take him into his arms, to wipe away the past with a kiss and the strong embrace of his arms.

He stood and stepped closer to the side of the bed, leaning over to gaze down at Harry's pale face, the moonlight illuminating the slowly fading bruises and marks of the past. In only a matter of hours he would be back to normal, free of the physical scars of the events of the last few months. But the scars of the Gryffindors mind and heart would take more than healing salve to fix.

Draco rubbed a hand over his stinging eyes and kneeled down to lean on the edge of the white sheeted bed. He reached out a hand to touch Harry's face, but stopped and drew back his trembling fingers, wishing only to touch Harry with permission when, and if, he was ever ready to accept it again.

Draco let the tears fall down his face as he laid his cheek against Harry's immobile hand; warm and soft beneath his skin. He closed his eyes and sighed, allowing the moment to stretch and grow until his knees ached from the stone floor, and still he sat, drinking in the moment he had at hand and forgetting for once that there would be a tomorrow with painful conversations and admissions to endure. Those green eyes would look at him with anger and pain then, not the love that he wanted to see now.

But you can't stop time and the world will awaken the dreamers once more to face reality.

Draco lifted his tear-stained face and was greeted by the sight of a slowly rising sun, the sky changing from darkest blue to pink and orange.

It would be a beautiful day.

He looked back to Harry and rose to his feet, legs stiff from kneeling for so long, and backed up until he was a safe distance away once more. He wrapped his arms protectively around himself and kept his regret and remorse inside, safely hidden away from the rest of the world.

A gentle knock on the door disrupted the silent solitude, causing Draco to jump and quickly wipe at his eyes.

"Mr Malfoy."

Draco turned and greeted the headmaster with a tired nod, arms still tightly wrapped around his body, not quite meeting those kind blue eyes with his own.

Dumbledore closed the door softly behind him and walked past Draco to the empty chair at Harry's bedside. The wizened old man patted Harry's hand gently, eyes taking in the small droplets of water still glistening on the pale skin, evidence of the scene that had taken place before his arrival. He discreetly wiped away the tears with his thumb and watched Harry's chest rise and fall rhythmically before him.

"Thank you, Draco."

Draco dabbed at his eyes some more and stayed back in the shadows. "For what?" he responded quietly.

"For telling me all that you did," Dumbledore said, eyes still on Harry as he slept. "I know it wasn't easy."

Draco shrugged.

"Are you planning on starting up your relationship with Harry again once he's recovered?"

Draco looked out the window, past the thin white curtains and into the slowly brightening sky beyond. "If he wants to."

Dumbledore turned in his chair to regard his young Slytherin student seriously. "I know you're sorry for your past mistakes, Draco, but I would advise against it."

"And why is that?" Draco frowned.

"Because there are just too many factors against the two of you."

Draco uncrossed his arms, suddenly angry. "The world does not dictate what I can and can not do. If I love Harry - and believe me, I do - then I will do whatever it takes to make our relationship work. We were just fine before everyone else found out, and we will be fine again."

Dumbledore sighed and shook his head. "It's not just the matter of two rivals being together, it's that he is Harry Potter and you are Draco Malfoy. The future defeater of Voldemort and a prominent Death Eater's son, and no matter how hard you try, you can't change that."

"I thought you would be the last person to buy into all that bullshit," Draco remarked coolly.

"It's not how I usually think of you or Harry, but in this situation, I must. I want you to fight for our side, for Harry's side, but not at the personal risk of yourself or anyone else."

"Professor Snape puts himself in harms way for your side," Draco pointed out.

"Yes, but that decision only affects himself. Voldemort is a believer in blackmail and won't hesitate to use it against, Harry. You would be an invaluable spy for us, Draco, but he can't find out that you have any kind of feelings for Harry other than hate."

"Who says I'm going to fight at all? Maybe I'll just stand in the background and not choose a side at all."

Dumbledore gazed at Draco over the top of his spectacles. "You and I both know that's a lie."

Draco ran an agitated hand through his mussed up hair and paced back and forth in front of the window. "I don't care what you say, my life is my own, and you can't stop me. You can't stop _us_."

"I only ask that you think about it."

Draco stopped his pacing. "I don't need to."

Dumbledore sighed and stood with deliberate slowness. "I guess the decision rests with, Harry."

"I guess it does," Draco remarked with finality.

Dumbledore walked towards the door.

"Sir?"

The headmaster paused and turned.

"What exactly happened to Harry tonight? With that magic...explosion, or whatever it was."

"I would like to talk to Harry about that first, and then he may choose whether to tell you or not. But I can tell you that he will be fine...as far as his physical health goes."

Draco nodded, the headmaster's last comment not slipping by without a sharp stab to his guilty conscience.

As the door shut behind the old wizard, Draco walked back over to Harry and stared down at him. Harry's face was now washed in the warm glow of the rising sun, the bruises having all faded away to reveal the almost porcelain tone of his skin. Draco couldn't resist leaning down to ghost his lips over that soft mouth below, his touch as light as a feather, barely brushing them at all, but it was enough. For now.

Draco straightened up and grasped a hold of the next bed, pulling it over with the screech of metal on stone, until it was right up against Harry's. He pulled back the starchy sheets and only paused to remove his shoes and cloak before climbing under and lying back against the clean smelling pillows.

He lay on his side, facing Harry. A sad smile graced his face as he slowly drifted off to sleep. It felt as if he was sharing a bed with Harry again. It was as close as he was going to get tonight, but hopefully not forever.

The sky outside the infirmary tower turned a cool blue as morning slowly greeted the castle. It was a cold, crisp December day, and the sun shone down on the frozen grounds and sparkled on the frosty grass.

The two dreamers slept soundly, content to stay in the moment until they were ready to face reality again.

  
  
...........................  
  
A warm beam of sunlight slowly crept over the white sheets of the infirmary bed until it touched upon the face of the young man sleeping there, the beam growing and lengthening as the sun rose in the sky outside.

Harry's eyes twitched beneath his closed lids, the sunlight gently waking him with its soothing warmth. He sighed in his sleep and slowly opened his emerald eyes. He blinked sleepily up at the ceiling, his body warm and comfortable, and for once, free from pain.

"I'm dreaming," he thought with a contented smile, closing his eyes against the sun's bright rays and revelling in a long, luxurious stretch.

Harry opened his eyes again and smiled. His brain was trying to remember what had happened the night before, he knew it was something important...

He quickly pushed those troublesome thoughts away and turned his head to look out the window. The only thing he was able to see from his low viewpoint was the huge expanse of sky above; a canopy of blue with thick white and grey clouds floating by. There was a layer of frost decorating the edges of the glass window, sparkling as it melted and ran down in little rivers.

Harry slowly sat up and was surprised at how weak and light-headed he was. He shook his head to clear his vision of spots and leaned back against the pillows, content to stay there forever as he closed his eyes once more and sighed.

"Harry?"

Harry's eyes flew open at the sound of that voice and it all came rushing back.

The spell was broken.

He turned his head to the right and saw Draco sitting cross-legged on the cot next to his, staring at him intently.

"You're awake," Draco observed unnecessarily, flashing a nervous smile.

Oh, God. Harry quickly ducked his head and squeezed his eyes shut. He wanted to go back to sleep. He wanted to be unconscious, oblivious to the real world again. To be doing anything rather than sitting in front of his ex-boyfriend burning with humiliation and anger and-

"Harry?"

Harry felt his cheeks redden as he tried to block out Draco's voice. He flipped over onto his side so that his back was towards him, hoping that the Slytherin would take the hint and leave.

Draco sighed. "Please don't be like that, Harry. At least hear me out first, or talk to me, yell at me if you want, just...anything. Please."

Harry ignored his quiet pleading and pulled the blanket tightly around his body.

Draco shook his head to keep the tears from coming, but it still hurt to see how much hate and pain was directed his way from the other boy. He stood up and walked around to the other side of Harry's bed and kneeled down, staring into Harry's closed-off face; eyes squeezed tightly shut and jaw tight with tension.

"I'm going to talk and you don't have to say anything," Draco began softly. "Just listen."

Harry remained motionless.

Draco took a deep breath and continued. "I guess I should start with what happened after...well, after what happened in the Great Hall. I don't know if you remember, but you knocked Ethan unconscious-"

Harry flinched.

"- and then you fainted. Madam Pomfrey said that you were exhausted and drained from that power surge, and you've been asleep now for almost three days. You had everyone pretty worried there for awhile, Harry. Especially me."

He paused to take another steadying breath.

"Ethan-"

Harry flinched again.

"- was arrested and taken into the Ministry's custody. He's awaiting trial now, based on the information I gave them about...Lupin and that other man. I'm sorry about Remus, Harry. I never got the chance to tell you, but he was a good man and I know it must've been hard to have another tragedy piled onto you after...after everything that's happened."

Draco saw Harry swallow and saw the gathering of moisture beneath his lowered lashes.

"Once you're ready, Dumbledore said that they need you to come and stand against Ethan in court, you know, as a witness or whatever. But only once you've recovered."

Harry opened his eyes and Draco was surprised to see fury there instead of sadness.

"Oh, I see," Harry said. "Let me lie around for a few weeks and I'll be right as rain. Once he's put into jail, I won't ever think on it again. Wiped from my memory. I'll be back to my normal cheerful self in no time."

"Harry, I know it's going to take time-"

"No, you don't. You don't know anything about it. I'll never forget it - for the rest of my life! And I won't be going to the trial. I don't want to see him again - ever."

Harry angrily flounced onto his other side, leaving Draco once again faced with his back.

"I don't want to see you again either," came the muffled command.

Draco bit his lip and slowly stood up. "Fine, if that's what you want."

"It is."

Draco blinked and hurriedly walked past the row of beds towards the door. He pulled it open and glanced back over his shoulder. Harry wasn't even looking at him, he was staring out the window.

Draco turned and shut the door. He nodded to the headmaster, who was just coming up the hallway to see Harry, then stalked past without a word and headed for his room.

Dumbledore shook his head sadly, feeling a sense of torn compassion for the young Slytherin. He knew that it was best that Draco and Harry distance themselves from each other right now, and avoid the heartache later on when Draco would join in the fight against Voldemort and not be able to be with Harry in the way that Harry needed.

But he also knew that it would take more than a stubborn Gryffindor and an insistent headmaster to convince Draco otherwise.

"How are you feeling, Harry?" Dumbledore questioned carefully, entering the infirmary and softly closing the door behind him. "Feeling up to a little chat?"

Harry's eyes flicked over to Dumbledore's face, his expression carefully impassive. "I guess," he answered non-comittally.

The headmaster smiled gently and lowered himself into the chair at Harry's bedside. He looked into Harry's face and was relieved to see that all the bruising and cuts had faded away until the only visible mark to Harry's perfect complexion was the famous lightning bolt scar on his pale forehead.

Dumbledore adjusted his robes comfortably and sat back, turning his head to gaze out of the window and gather his thoughts before speaking.

"Did you speak with Mr Malfoy?" he asked first.

"Not really," Harry answered honestly, averting his eyes when Dumbledore once again turned towards him.

"Oh?"

"There's nothing to talk about."

"Are you sure that's how you want to leave it with him, Harry?"

Harry nodded. "Yes. He wants me to forgive him, and that's something that I will never be able to do."

"I understand," Dumbledore spoke quietly.

"Do you?" Harry asked, icily.

"While I've never been in your particular situation, Harry, I can still imagine what you must be going through. Although you might find it hard to believe, I was once in love-"

Harry snapped his eyes back to Dumbledore's face. "Who said anything about love?"

The headmaster looked slightly taken-aback as he answered. "I just assumed..."

"Well, don't. Malfoy doesn't love me, and I certainly don't love him."

Dumbledore sighed and paused, considering Harry's hard expression. "Although I don't condone a relationship between the two of you, for various reasons which I'm sure you are aware of, I should tell you that Mr Malfoy has been sitting by your bed night and day since you've been here, and I don't think he's doing it out of guilt."

Harry swallowed and shook his head, rejecting Dumbledore's words. "No..."

"Harry-"

"No! I don't want to talk about it!" Harry exclaimed loudly.

"Fine, we won't discuss it further if you don't want to," Dumbledore assured him calmly. "But just know that you can talk to me about anything anytime you wish."

Harry took a deep breath and slowly let it out, forcing himself to calm down.

"Now, I would like to discuss something with you, something which I think you must be quite curious about."

"What?"

"How you managed to knock out Ethan without the aid of a wand or spell, and whilst you were tied to a chair."

"Oh, yeah," Harry exclaimed quietly. "I forgot...how _did_ I do that?"

Dumbledore smiled affectionately. "By sheer will, my boy. You have amazing power stored inside you, Harry. Magic you haven't even begun to tap yet is sitting there just waiting for you to discover and explore. While I didn't know that you possessed this particular gift before, I must confess I'm quite excited about it now."

"It's a gift? What does it...do?" Harry asked curiously.

"It's wand-less magic, Harry. Magic performed by the power of your mind and heart."

"Can't everyone do that?"

"In small doses, yes." Dumbledore nodded. "But to actually call up the magic to stun another wizard, that takes a great talent."

Harry frowned as he processed this information. "Why couldn't I do it before?"

"The first time it appears in a wizard, it must be under certain circumstances. A sudden bout of happiness or anger – the big emotions of life."

"I was angry," Harry murmured. "Angrier than I've ever been..."

"You see." Dumbledore nodded.

"And now I can do it whenever I want?" Harry asked, interestedly.

"Well, yes and no. You must train to use the power accordingly."

"What? Why?"

"If you don't learn how to control it, it will eventually control you. You could become a danger to yourself and to others around you."

Harry's eyes widened. "Like the time I blew up my aunt?"

Dumbledore chuckled. "Not quite like that, dear boy. But to a larger degree, yes." Dumbledore turned serious again. "There have been incidences in the past of wizards casting Avada Kedavra when all they really wanted to do was punch somebody in the face. You must learn how to use it correctly."

"How?"

"After you're seventh year is over you have the choice to attend a special training school. There are still a few left for this particular gift, I believe."

"What do you mean 'still'?"

"It's not a common gift-"

"Like Parseltongue." Harry smiled wryly.

"Yes, like Parseltongue. Not too many schools exist anymore, there's just no need. There are less and less every year and I'm afraid that one day this magic will become non-existent. So you can see why I was excited to learn that you possessed it."

"It's not something that Voldemort passed on to me, is it?" Harry asked, anxiously.

Dumbledore smiled and shook his head. "No, in fact it was passed on to you by your mother."

"My...mother?" Harry asked in shock. "How come you didn't tell me before?"

"There was no need to, but now..."

Harry shook his head in disbelief and stared down at his hands resting on the bed sheet.

"She was an amazing woman, Harry."

Harry smiled at his hands. "Did she go to a special school, too?"

"No, she went to a trainer in Ireland to be given private instruction."

"How come?"

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled as he answered. "I don't think she wanted to move too far away from your father."

Harry's smile widened as he glanced up at Dumbledore's face.

"He was an old friend of mine, in fact," Dumbledore continued, thoughtfully. "Quite a good man, by the name of Julian Price."

"Is he still around?"

"Oh, my, yes. Still teaching, even at his old age. A better instructor you'll never find."

Harry bit his lip thoughtfully. "Would _I_ be able to go to him?"

"If you want to," Dumbledore answered, looking pleased by the idea.

"I think I'd like to do that," Harry replied. "I think I'd like to learn from the same man my mother learned from, since it was her gift that was passed on to me."

"I'll contact Julian and see if he's available next year."

Harry's eyes dimmed slightly and he instantly returned to staring at his hands.

"Something wrong, Harry?" Dumbledore asked in concern.

"No, I'm just...tired, I guess," Harry answered, emotionlessly.

"I'll leave you to rest then."

"Professor Dumbledore?" Harry looked up as his headmaster stood to leave.

"Yes?"

"Could you tell Madam Pomfrey that...that I want my glasses back?"

"Your glasses?" Dumbledore repeated in confusion.

"Yes, she repaired my eye-sight awhile ago," Harry spoke, looking at the floor. "But...I don't want it anymore."

"I never even noticed," Dumbledore murmured. "Is there a problem with your eyes the way they are now?"

"No, I...I just want my glasses back."

"Of course. I'll tell her straight away."

"Thank you."

Dumbledore turned and quietly left Harry to himself.

Harry breathed a sigh of relief once Dumbledore had gone. He leaned back against his pillow and closed his eyes.

An image of Ethan flashed before him and he instantly snapped his eyes open.

He shook his head and looked around for any nearby bottles of Dreamless Sleep Potion.

Unfortunately, there weren't any.

He took a deep breath and forced himself to think of something else. He pictured his mother and imagined her training in Ireland. Then he pictured himself training there. A wise old man with a gnarled cane and a grey cloak whipping around his frail body was barking out orders to an older version of himself. They stood on a mountain top and a harsh wind blew all around them, but it didn't distract the older Harry.

He smiled as he saw himself as an older man; taller, with a very determined face and graceful movements. In his mind he saw himself practicing martial arts stances and fighting moves, substituting those images for the real training that would be awaiting him, because he had no idea what it really looked like or what it even involved.

He finally drifted off as he saw his mother smiling and congratulating him for such hard work, and for carrying on her gift with great skill and responsibility.

  
  
............................  
  
Harry slowly swam to the surface of consciousness some twelve hours later, leaving behind a strange and complicated dream in the murky depths of a deep sleep. As the silence of the infirmary closed in around him he became acutely aware that there was someone else in the room besides himself.

He immediately tensed and kept his eyes shut tight.

It took him a few heart-stopping seconds to remember that Ethan was in Ministry custody and that it could in no way be him breathing softly by his bedside, which only left one other possibility – Draco.

Harry clenched his teeth and felt anger beginning to burn in the pit of his stomach. How dare he come back here again. He didn't want to see, let alone speak to, Draco Malfoy right now, or ever.

Trying to control his rising fury, Harry finally opened his eyes to the inevitable.

"Professor Dumbledore?"

The headmaster smiled down at him. "Good evening, Harry. How are you feeling?"

"I-I'm okay," Harry stammered, glancing around the infirmary for anyone else that might've been lurking nearby.

It appeared that he and the headmaster were indeed alone.

"Glad to hear it, my boy." Dumbledore smiled.

Harry turned to Dumbledore and found that he had to lower his eyes from that cheerful grandfatherly face. He was disappointed that the man who had known him the longest and who knew more about him than he did himself, was so easily fooled into thinking that he really was fine.

"I'm sorry to say that this isn't a social call," Dumbledore sighed, smile fading quickly. "Fudge wanted to come and talk to you personally, along with his entire entourage, but I told him that you weren't quite up to a mass of questioning Ministry officials and that I would speak with you myself."

"About what?" Harry asked in confusion. "You know more about what happened-"

"No, not about that." Dumbledore shook his head and watched him carefully. "We already have all the information we need concerning that night from Mr Malfoy, and Ethan himself is not disputing the account of those events."

"So, what do they need me for?"

Dumbledore regarded him sadly and Harry was surprised to see that it looked as if the old man was holding back tears. "Harry, we know Ethan has caused you more pain than what you endured four days ago. Madam Pomfrey told me that she found evidence of abuse that looked as if it was from month's ago..."

Harry stared hard at his hands, clenched tightly around fistfuls of bed sheets.

"You don't have to tell me about it now unless you want to," Dumbledore assured him gently. "The trial will be in two days time-"

Harry snapped his head up anxiously. "Two days? That's all?"

"I'm afraid so. They need him to be tried as quickly as possible so that they can imprison him and see what information he may be able to provide our side. Fudge is quite certain that Ethan will be a big help in finding Voldemort and ruining his plans, but I have my doubts."

Harry squeezed his fists even tighter and twisted the white cotton back and forth, his hands damp with sweat. He wished the headmaster would stop saying Ethan's name. Every time he heard it aloud it made him flinch, it was like an automatic reaction, as if someone was sticking a red-hot needle into his skin.

This seemed to go un-noticed by the headmaster.

"But they need your testimony so that he can be rightfully charged. You don't have to worry about a thing, Ethan will-"

Flinch.

"- not walk out of that court a free man. He is already charged with two counts of murder, to which he quite readily boasted about to the Ministry. You don't have to be afraid."

"Too late," Harry thought bitterly.

"You won't even have to go near him."

"But he _will_ be there?" Harry stated more than questioned. "In the same room."

"Yes, under Ministry guard."

Harry swallowed thickly and shoved his now trembling hands beneath the wrinkled sheets. "Who else will be there?"

"The Wizengamot of course, and myself, Mr Weasley and Miss Granger-"

"Why are they going?" Harry frowned.

"If not for the efforts of your friends, two murders would never have been solved. They are the ones that went to Ethan's home and delved into his past...something I wish I had done myself, before any of this happened."

It dawned on Harry then, that his greatly respected and revered Professor had made a mistake.

It came as a huge blow to his already fractured perception of the people around him.

Nothing is as it seems.

Harry shook his head and turned to look out the window. He suddenly felt swamped with angry thoughts and accusations. It's Dumbledore's fault that Remus is dead. It's Dumbledore's fault that Ethan came into the school. It's Dumbledore's fault that I'm lying in this bed right now...

No. Harry knew that that wasn't fair. The headmaster had a brewing war to contend with, he shouldn't have to worry about constantly baby-sitting the Boy-Who-Lived as well.

"Harry?"

Harry blinked and re-focused on Dumbledore's concerned face. "Sorry?"

"I asked if you wished to have anyone in particular at the trial with you for support."

"How about Sirius? Or Remus? Or maybe my parents?" Harry wanted to snap. "Oh, wait, that's right – they're dead."

"Harry?" Dumbledore prompted with a frown.

"Uh, no," Harry mumbled.

"Well, if you're sure-"

"No, I mean, I'm not going."

The headmaster slowly leaned back in his chair and stroked his beard thoughtfully, eyes practically boring into the side of Harry's down-turned face. "And why is that?"

"I-I just don't want to."

Dumbledore leaned forward once more, his blue eyes serious and piercing. "You do realize that if you don't show up to charge him, then he'll get away with it."

"But he'll still be punished for the murders," Harry pointed out quietly. "What would one lesser charge do anyway?"

"Closure, Harry," Dumbledore said, wisely. "He needs to know that you aren't scared of him now. He needs to see that he didn't break you, that you're strong and confident. _You_ need him to know that, or it will eat away at you."

Harry bit his tongue as his inner voice once again said the words he longed to say out loud. "But I'm not strong and confident. I _am_ still scared of him. I'm scared of what would happen if I saw him again...he did break me..."

"You don't want that do you, Harry?"

"I dunno..."

"You do want him to be punished, right?"

"I don't care."

Dumbledore stared in shock. "Harry..."

Harry finally looked up. He was angry and tired and confused, and didn't want to have to talk about it anymore. "I never said he did anything to me anyway, you just assumed it was him."

"Then where did you get all those marks from?" Dumbledore asked, sceptically.

"Maybe it was self-inflicted."

"Don't joke about that, Harry. Look, Ethan-"

Flinch.

"Stop it!" Harry shouted.

Dumbledore looked taken-aback.

"Stop saying his name," Harry demanded desperately. "I don't want to hear it again...and I'm not going to the trial. I don't want to charge him with anything."

"But-"

"No! I don't care, alright? I. Don't. Care."

Harry flopped back onto his side and closed his eyes.

The headmaster stood slowly and gazed down at Harry's agitated face.

"At least think about it," he suggested quietly.

"Done," came the quick and hard reply.

Dumbledore sighed and left Harry all alone in the shadowed hospital wing.

Harry cautiously opened his eyes and watched the door close behind the headmaster. He sighed and looked up at the ceiling.

The tears came easily as he couldn't help wondering when this would all be over.

Unbidden, an image of Remus rose up in his mind and he closed his eyes to try and shut it out.

"I'm sorry," he sobbed brokenly. "It's my fault, it's all my fault."

Harry rolled over and clung to his pillow as he cried into the white fabric, muffling his sobs as it all came pouring out.

Slowly his tears subsided, leaving his eyes red and swollen. He rolled onto his back and took in a shuddery breath.

He didn't feel any better.

"Mr Potter?"

Harry lifted his head and looked over at Madam Pomfrey as she entered the room. She was carrying a silver tray with various potions and a pair of round glasses sitting on it.

"My glasses!" Harry exclaimed upon seeing the familiar frames.

"Yes, the headmaster told me that you wished to have them returned to you," she said, setting the tray by his bed. She noticed his swollen eyes, but refrained from comment. "Drink this potion and your vision will return to its previous state."

Harry accepted the yellow potion and immediately drank it down. It tasted of mint.

"Good, now I'm leaving you with some vials of Dreamless Sleep Potion just in case you need them, but don't take them for at least half an hour, they don't mix well with the Vision Potion."

Harry placed his now empty vial back onto the tray. "Alright, thank you."

"The potion should take effect within the next ten minutes or so. A House-Elf will be by with your dinner soon. Call me if you need anything else, I'll be in my office."

Harry nodded and delicately picked his glasses off of the tray, inspecting them closely.

Madam Pomfrey stopped and turned in the doorway. "Oh, and Potter?"

Harry looked up.

"Professor Dumbledore asked me to tell you that we can have a therapist brought in from St Mungo's if you wanted a professional to talk to."

Harry's eyes widened in panic.

"Good-night, Mr Potter." Madam Pomfrey smiled and exited into her office, shutting the door behind her.

Harry fought down his rising panic. There was no way he was going to tell anyone what happened, especially a complete stranger.

He lay back down onto his back and absently fingered his glasses as he stared up at the ceiling again, lost in thought.

He brought up one hand and rubbed his temple, groaning inwardly at the beginning twinges of one his headaches.

"Great, that's all I need now," he thought sarcastically.

He turned his head and gazed longingly at the shiny vials of Dreamless Sleep Potion.

"I wonder what would happen if I drank one?" he mused thoughtfully. "Would it kill me or just make me sick?"

He bit his lip and toyed with the idea for a minute, but eventually sighed and returned to staring at the very dull and uninteresting ceiling.

He closed his eyes and tried to will his headache away, but it seemed that concentrating like that only makes it worse.

Harry draped one arm over his eyes and carelessly tossed his glasses onto the bed-side table. He heard them land on the table with a clunk and then the sound of shattering glass as they bounced off and hit the stone floor.

Harry laughed helplessly and kept his arm over his eyes. "What did I ever do to you?" he asked his broken glasses.

He gasped and jumped as his glasses were suddenly slipped into his right hand. He took his arm away from his eyes and sat up.

And there was Draco, kneeling on the floor and staring straight back at him.

Harry let out another snort of bitter laughter. "And just when I thought my day couldn't get any worse..."

Draco stood up and silently removed his wand from his cloak.

Harry froze. "What are you doing?"

Draco held his gaze for a moment then flicked his grey eyes to Harry's hand and touched his wand to the broken glasses still lying on his open palm.

"Oculus Reparo."

"Oh." Harry let out the breath he had been holding and curled his fingers around the perfectly repaired frames.

Draco backed up and sat on the next bed, facing Harry as he re-pocketed his wand. "What did you think I was going to do, kill you?"

"Why not?" Harry replied defiantly. "Maybe you came to finish off the job."

Draco rolled his eyes in exasperation. "I fix your glasses and you bite my head off?"

"Sor-" Harry clamped a hand over his mouth. "Damn it, Draco, I shouldn't have to apologize to you."

"I didn't ask you to."

"Good." Harry crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against his pillow.

Draco sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Look, I didn't come here to argue."

"Oh, yeah? Then what _did_ you come for?"

"I just want to talk."

"I'm not going to forgive you if that's what you're looking for."

"I don't expect you to, that's not why I'm here."

"Oh, that's right, you came to talk," Harry said, voice dripping with sarcasm. "Funny, I thought I told you that I didn't want to see you again, and yet, here you are. Did you really think that we weren't going to argue?"

"Would you just shut-up and listen?" Draco exclaimed.

"Don't you dare tell me to shut-up!" Harry shouted furiously.

"Well, I can never get a word in edge-wise!"

"Maybe because I don't want to hear what you have to say!"

Draco stood so fast that it caused Harry to jump. "For once in your life, just shut your mouth and fucking listen, will you?"

Harry kicked off the covers and stood up, swaying slightly but remaining upright as he stared angrily up at Draco.

"Don't yell at me. I saved your life, remember?"

"Oh, and I suppose I was just there for my health?" Draco snapped. "I was trying to save you, you stupid git!"

"Didn't do a very good job of it, did you? And it's your fault I was there in the first place."

"How many times do I have to say I'm sorry before you'll let that go?"

"It'll never be enough," Harry said with a shake of his head. "You could apologize every day for a hundred years and it'd still never be enough."

"Then what do you want me to do?" Draco cried in frustration.

"Just walk away, Malfoy. That's the best thing you could do."

Draco shook his head. "No, I can't."

"You don't have a choice."

"Yes, I do. What if you hit me?"

"What?" Harry frowned, thrown by the sudden turn.

"Hit me, punch me, hex me, anything. It'll make you feel better."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Be serious."

"I am," Draco said, earnestly.

"I'm not going to hit you."

"Why not?"

Harry sighed and sat down on the edge of his bed. "Because you're not the one I really want to hit."

Draco tentatively sat down beside him. "I _am_ sorry, Harry. Even if you don't believe me."

"I do believe you, that's the problem," Harry smiled wryly. "Doesn't mean I forgive you, though."

"Well, it's a start." Draco smiled.

Harry shook his head and rubbed his aching temples, his headache now ten times worse thanks to all the yelling. "No, it's not a start, it's a finish. I meant what I said earlier, the best thing you could do is just walk away."

"And I meant what I said, too," Draco replied. "I can't do that."

"Well, you don't have a choice. I'm leaving to go study somewhere else next year."

"So we have a year," Draco said.

Harry blinked as the room swam in and out of focus. "No, there's no 'we,' Malfoy."

"Stop calling me that, we're not strangers."

Harry put his glasses on and the room returned to normal; the Vision Potion taking its full effect. "Yes we are in a way. I thought I knew you, but I was wrong...again."

"What do you mean 'again'?"

"Well," Harry began, eyeing the Dreamless Sleep Potions. "Back in first year I thought you were a snobby, stuck-up, little brat. For the next few years I saw that you really were a snobby, stuck-up, little brat, and I decided that that's what you would be for the rest of your life. I figured I knew who you were and I decided that you were someone that I should hate, and so I did."

"But then, last summer I saw a different side of you. I began to wonder if maybe you hid the real you way deep down under layers and layers of denial and the need to fit in, in your house and in your family. You were caring and funny, and just outright friendly, and I thought if you could be like that around me (your mortal enemy), then _that_ must be the real you. So I let myself believe that, I let my guard down, and there you were – telling me that you cared, that you loved me."

"Harry-"

"No, let me finish," Harry said softly. "You were the first person to ever say those words to me and I felt safe in the thought that no matter what other people did or said to me, you loved me. Ever since I learned about my past, I've never really felt safe in my life – except when I was in your arms. I guess I fenced myself in."

Harry paused and took a deep breath, his voice flat and emotionless as he continued.

"And then you turned away from me, left me abruptly in the worst possible way, at the worst possible time. The people I cared about were dying all around me and what I really needed was someone to hold me. I needed you...but you weren't there anymore."

Draco closed his eyes in pain.

"So I had to change my view of you yet again. So you became a heartless, cruel, stuck-up bastard. But what did I care? I had found someone else who didn't care if other people knew that he loved me. But I was wrong...again."

"I guess I just don't understand people. I thought love was something special, something to cherish, but it's just a lie. People use it to get what they want and they don't care who they hurt along the way. So now _I_ don't care. Love is just a game and I'm tired of playing it."

"Harry..." Draco whispered, grey eyes glassy with unshed tears. "I'm sor-"

"No," Harry cut him off firmly. "Don't say it. Don't try to convince me that you're someone you're not. I don't even think _you_ know who you really are. So don't apologize until you're sure you mean it."

"But I do mean it."

Harry looked up at Draco's face sadly. "I wish I knew what to believe."

They silently stared into each other's eyes, both thinking over what Harry had said.

"Mister Potter, sir?"

The two boys looked up, startled, and saw Dobby nervously standing by the hallway of the infirmary holding a large tray of food.

"Dobby." Harry greeted with a weak smile.

Dobby instantly broke into a grin and walked over. "I have your dinner, sir."

Draco abruptly stood up and walked over to the window, trying to disguise the fact that he was wiping his eyes.

Harry ignored him and reached out to take the heavy tray from the grinning House-Elf.

"Thanks, Dobby. This looks great."

"Thank you, Harry Potter, sir." Dobby bounced on the spot with pleasure. "How is Harry Potter feeling? Dobby was most awfully worried."

"I'm okay." Harry poked at the steaming vegetables on his plate.

Dobby glanced fearfully over at Draco, then whispered to Harry, "Is you wanting to be alone, sir?"

Harry glanced up at Draco, the blond staring stoically out at the grounds below.

"That's okay, Dobby. He was just leaving."

"Alright. Goodbye, Harry Potter, sir." Dobby bowed and smiled as he exited backwards from the room.

Harry gave a careless wave and pushed his food away once Dobby was out of sight.

"You'd better eat that or Pomfrey will have your head," Draco said, not turning around.

Harry shrugged. "You can have it, I'm not hungry."

Draco finally tore his eyes away from the cold grey landscape outside and turned back around, fully composed and eyes dry.

"You should be. You're way too thin, Harry."

"I can eat later. I think I'll just take a nap." Harry reached out for one of the vials of Dreamless Sleep.

Draco stepped forward and yanked the tray away before he could touch it.

"It hasn't been half an hour yet."

"How did you know about that?" Harry frowned.

"I pay attention...and what do you mean 'how did I know'? What were you trying to do? Mix them on purpose?"

"Forget it," Harry huffed, flopping back on the bed.

Draco set the tray down and sat on the end of Harry's bed. "You can have one in ten minutes."

"What am I supposed to do for ten minutes while my brain tries to pound its way out through my skull?"

Draco hid a smile. "You can listen to me."

"Oh, joy." Harry rolled his eyes sarcastically.

"I came here to talk to you about the trial."

Harry's expression immediately became closed off. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Good, because you don't have to talk. Just listen."

Harry glared and pressed his lips together.

"Dumbledore told me that you had decided not to charge Ethan, and that you refused to go to the trial."

"So?" Harry challenged.

"So why would you do something so stupid?"

Harry gaped in outrage. "What?"

"You practically kill the guy and then turn around and say that he never hurt you? It doesn't make sense."

"That's because you don't know what I went through..."

"So tell me."

"Yeah, right."

"But you do admit that he hurt you?" Draco prompted.

"No...maybe. What does it matter? I'm alive, so it couldn't have been that bad, right?"

"Harry, people can live through the Cruciatus Curse but that doesn't mean you can go around using it on everyone."

"Not according to your father."

Draco breathed out calmly. "That's not going to work. This is about you and Ethan."

Harry flinched and balled his hands into fists at the reaction, unable to prevent it and frustrated at not being able to control it.

"Harry? Are you okay?" Draco asked in concern.

"I'm fine," Harry ground out through clenched teeth.

"Are you afraid of all the people that will be there listening to you? Because you only have to tell them as much as you want to."

Harry looked up. "What do you mean?"

"Well, technically you only have to show up and say that Ethan physically abused you without going into detail and he can still be charged."

"And they'll just take my word for it?" Harry asked sceptically.

"They should. They have Madam Pomfrey's medical report which backs you up, and I think I heard Dumbledore say something about using Veritaserum. Ethan will be forced to prove you right whether he likes it or not."

Harry chewed his lip thoughtfully.

"You want it all to be over, right?" Draco asked gently. "Now here's your chance. You can put Ethan behind you, knowing he's locked away forever, and start fresh."

"A new beginning..." Harry mused aloud.

Draco smiled encouragingly and nodded.

Harry sighed and played with the buttons on his pyjamas. "I could cut all my ties to this life and start anew somewhere else."

Draco's smile faltered. "What do you mean?"

"Well, when I move away next year, I could just stay there...forever."

"What about Voldemort and the war?"

"He can come to me," Harry smirked.

"And where will that be?"

"I can't tell you."

"Why not? Is it top secret?" Draco smiled.

Harry lifted his emerald eyes to meet Draco's teasing gaze.

"No, it's because you're one of the ties that I have to cut."

Draco swallowed and felt as if the earth had dropped out from beneath him.

"A fresh start, remember?" Harry reminded him quietly.

"But..."

"I need this, Draco. You understand that there can never be an 'us' again, right? It just wouldn't work and...I don't want that anymore, and I know deep down that you know it too."

Draco shook his head and stared down at his hands.

"You can tell Dumbledore that I'll go to the trial, but once it's over then I'm clear of any responsibilities concerning this whole thing."

Draco nodded.

Harry watched him sympathetically, but couldn't force any words of comfort. He knew the only words befitting this situation would be 'I'm sorry,' but he swore to himself that he would never say those words to the Slytherin ever again.

"He deserved what he got," Harry thought. "He should've thought of the consequences while he was busy breaking my heart."

If Harry only knew that Draco was thinking the same thing at that moment.

"Could you pass me a bottle of Dreamless Sleep?" Harry asked. "It's been ten minutes."

Draco blinked and snapped out of his swirling thoughts. He stood and handed Harry the glass vial of purple liquid.

Harry smiled for the first time and downed it one go. "Thanks."

Draco nodded and set the empty vial back down as Harry snuggled under the blankets and closed his eyes.

"Who knows?" Harry murmured sleepily. "Maybe once I'm gone you'll be able to find who you really are."

Draco didn't even try to stop the tears this time. They dropped from his eyes and trailed down his pale skin as he watched Harry drift into a peaceful sleep.

He reached out and stroked one finger down Harry's soft cheek.

"But I don't want you to go," he whispered brokenly.


	24. Fighter

_A/N - IMPORTANT -_ This is not the last chapter. It was supposed to be but it grew and grew until it just became too ridiculously long to make as one single chapter. So this is part one of the last chapter, the second part will be out soon. Also, there is going to be a sequel. It's called 'The Reason'. If you haven't heard the song The Reason by Hoobastank then I suggest you have a listen. It's perfect for Draco's situation.__

_

* * *

_

  
  
_   
  
How could this man I thought I knew _

_ Turn out to be unjust, so cruel?_

_ Could only see the good in you _

_ Pretended not to see the truth_

_ I tried to hide myself through living in denial_

_ But in the end you'll see _

_ You-Won't-Stop-Me!___

  
  
Harry pushed open the window shutters and closed his eyes as a biting wind blew across his face, lifting his hair and tossing the dark strands in every direction. He opened his eyes and placed his hands on the sill, leaning his upper body forward and through, into the open air.

A chilling wind was howling around the stone turrets of the castle. The sky was grey and black, the threatening presence of a storm hanging in the electrically charged air.

The contact with fresh air was refreshing and Harry smiled up at the rumbling sky, even as his heart pounded uncomfortably fast in his chest.

He grabbed his cloak from the chair at his side and clasped it around his shoulders. Underneath he wore a grey jumper and black trousers, along with a heavy pair of black boots. He safely tucked his wand into the waistband of his trousers then leaned out the window one last time, taking in great lungfuls of the cold December air to calm his racing nerves.

"Are you ready, Harry?"

Harry turned and swallowed nervously as he nodded.

Ron smiled reassuringly. "I'll wait outside."

Harry turned back to the open window and placed one hand over the wrinkled note hidden away in his cloak. He didn't have to look at the note anymore to remember exactly what it said, and he spoke the words aloud as he stared up at the sky above.

"Life is a journey; it can take you anywhere you choose to go. As long as you're learning, you'll find all you'll ever need to know. Be strong – you'll break it. Hold on – you'll make it. Just don't forsake it because no one can tell you what you can't do. When there's no one else, look inside yourself. Like your oldest friend, just trust the voice within. Then you'll find the strength that will guide your way. You'll learn to begin to trust the voice within."

Harry sighed and reluctantly closed the shutters.

The note had been delivered to him late last night by Hedwig with no signature attached, but he knew that it was from Draco. The silver-haired Slytherin had been noticeably absent since their conversation in the infirmary two nights ago, and Harry was grateful to Draco for giving him some space and some much-needed time alone. He appreciated the note and knew the blond was frustrated because he couldn't attend the hearing himself. Harry had put the parchment in his pocket as a comforting boost to his waning confidence.

With one last look around the empty infirmary Harry turned and walked out through the door to start what would undoubtedly be a very tense journey towards the Ministry of Magic and Courtroom Ten.

Harry walked between Ron and Hermione as they strode across the large Atrium of the Ministry of Magic. He remained quiet as Mr and Mrs Weasley signed them all in and handed round the visitor badges.

Harry glanced around the busy hall packed full of harried-looking witches and wizards, his eyes landing on the giant gold fountain in the centre of the room.

"Hang on a sec," Harry said. He turned and jogged over to the splashing fountain, stopping in front of it and looking up into the shining faces of the gold statues.

"I'll put in all the money I have on me if you help me out again and make this as quick and painless as possible, okay?" he asked, telepathically sending his message to the dancing figures.

Ron and Hermione joined him on either side, the three of them gazing up at the spouting fountain together.

"I guess they put this thing back together again after you smashed it up last year," Ron commented.

"It wasn't only me," Harry corrected, still staring into the golden faces. "Dumbledore had a hand in it, too."

"And Bellatrix," Hermione added.

"Bellatrix Lestrange," Harry murmured quietly.

Ron and Hermione tore their eyes from the fountain to glance worriedly at Harry.

"It's time to go," Mr Weasley announced, stepping up behind the three.

"Right..." Harry answered vaguely. He turned and walked towards the large golden gates.

The rest followed behind him as they all walked through the gates and stood waiting for a lift, none of them saying a word, not even Mrs Weasley who seemed pre-occupied with wringing her hands and darting worried glances in Harry's direction.

The other Ministry workers around them began to whisper and point.

By now the trial had become highly publicized, it was in every wizarding paper and the topic of most conversations. The information the public knew was sketchy at best, only a select few were privy to the knowledge that Harry had been abused, and only Harry knew the exact details what he had suffered. He still refused to talk about it to anyone.

The public only knew that the Lestrange's son had been arrested for trying to kill the Boy-Who-Lived and for murdering two, yet undisclosed, wizards and was facing a life sentence in Azkaban because of it.

Harry tried to ignore the whispering and stared hard at the toes of his boots. He could faintly hear Ron and Hermione arguing quietly about something behind him.

Mr Weasley put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

Harry flinched at the physical contact but quickly looked up to give Mr Weasley a wobbly smile of gratitude.

The lift finally arrived and the golden grille slid back to let them enter.

Harry noticed Hermione and Ron hanging back to make sure no one else got on the lift with them. He would've laughed at his friends for behaving like make-shift bodyguards if the situation hadn't been so serious and if he hadn't been feeling so nauseous.

The lift rattled and shook as it descended one level.

"Department of Mysteries."

Harry's stomach lurched as that coolly familiar voice announced their stop. The grille slid open with a resounding clang and Harry was left staring out at the bare hallway as the rest of the group filed past.

His heart was beating so fast he thought it would burst, his breath coming in short panicked gasps.

"Harry?" Hermione turned and saw his terrified expression.

Harry shook his head and backed up against the far wall of the lift.

"Harry, dear-"

"No, mum," Ron interrupted. "You and dad go on ahead; we'll be along in a minute.

Mr Weasley gently took his wife's arm and began to lead her away down the flight of stairs to the left, giving his youngest son a nod and a look that clearly said, 'take all the time you need.'

"I can't do this," Harry whispered as his two friends cautiously entered the lift once more.

"Yes, you can, Harry," Hermione encouraged.

Harry shook his head, still staring wide-eyed out the door.

"Are you still here?"

Harry blinked and stared at Hermione, thinking she had lost her marbles.

Then a muffled 'yeah' was spoken aloud that definitely hadn't come from either Ron or himself.

"What..." Harry trailed off in confusion as Hermione shut the grille and punched the emergency stop button to keep the lift from moving.

Harry gaped in shock as the air in front of him shimmered and Draco's head appeared from beneath the hood of an invisibility cloak.

"Draco," Harry gasped in astonishment. "What...how..."

Draco smiled slightly and shrugged. "I couldn't just sit around the school going mad wondering what was going on over here, so I decided to come along."

"You knew about this?" Harry asked Hermione incredulously.

"Yes, but it wasn't my idea,' she hurried to explain.

"Yeah, but it _was_ your idea for him to use Harry's cloak," Ron teased.

Harry smiled bemusedly.

Ron noticed Harry's smile with relief.

"Do you think you're ready now?" he decided to ask.

Harry's smile quickly disappeared. "No, I...no..."

"Harry," Draco addressed gently. "Did you read that note that I sent you?"

"Yeah, it's in my pocket."

"It is?" The corners of Draco's mouth lifted slightly as the pit of his stomach filled with a pleasant warm feeling. "Do you remember what it says?"

"Yes."

"Do you know where I got that message from?"

Harry shook his head.

"Your mother."

"My..." Harry placed one hand over the pocket of the concealed note. "What do you mean?"

"She wrote it in Professor Snape's yearbook the day they graduated. I saw it a long time ago when I was snooping around Snape's office and I copied it down because I liked it so much. I thought maybe it might help you somehow. I dunno...maybe it was a dumb idea."

"No," Harry said. "No, it was very...thoughtful."

Draco smiled in relief.

Harry reached inside his pocket and fondly stroked the parchment with his fingers.

_'...you'll find the strength that will guide your way. You'll learn to begin to trust the voice within.'_

Harry swallowed and straightened his shoulders.

"Okay, I'm ready."

Harry saw a tall wizard in uniform standing guard as he approached the imposing door of Courtroom Ten. He flashed him his visitor's badge and the guard's eyes widened as he leaned forward to read the name.

"In you go, Mr Potter," the guard instructed, some-what flustered. "They're waiting for you."

Harry took a deep breath and walked inside. His eyes immediately darted to the chair in the centre of the room, the one with heavy chains and shackles attached to it, and saw with relief that it was empty.

He wondered briefly if _he_ was supposed to sit there, then Mr Weasley came over and led him and Hermione and Ron, and consequently an invisible Draco, over to the lowest row of benches circling the large room.

"You have to sit here, Harry," Mr Weasley instructed, pointing to the bench between more wizarding guards. "We'll be up there."

Harry followed Mr Weasley's pointing finger up and over to the left, and saw the unmistakable red-head of Mrs Weasley sitting on a bench about halfway up.

Harry nodded, mouth dry.

Mr Weasley smiled and turned to climb up towards his wife. Ron and Hermione seemed at a loss for words, and followed Mr Weasley's example of smiling reassuringly before turning to follow behind him. He felt the warm pressure of a hand on his shoulder as Draco walked past to follow the others.

Then he was alone.

He didn't recognize any of the witches and wizards sitting around him at all. He could feel his heart beginning to speed up again and his breathing turning to short gasps.

He quickly tried to distract himself.

He glanced towards the Wizengamot sitting in their plum-coloured robes in front of the centre chair. Fudge was already present and glancing furtively over at Harry as he spoke with a short, blond witch in a pink suit.

Harry didn't like Fudge's expression, and it was obvious that Harry still wasn't his favourite person after humiliating Fudge last year in the press with regards to the legitimacy of his tale of the return of Voldemort.

Harry quickly averted his gaze as now both Fudge and the witch in pink turned to stare his way.

He let his eyes roam the quickly filling benches behind Fudge and let out a gasp of surprise.

There sitting in the official Wizengamot robes was Dumbledore.

Harry felt a small spark of hope that maybe the hearing wouldn't be so bad after all. He had completely forgotten about Dumbledore's reinstatement into the Wizengamot.

He tried to catch the headmaster's eye, but noticed that Dumbledore was busy frowning disapprovingly at Fudge's back. Harry didn't like the look of that and felt his flicker of hope quickly burn out. He didn't feel any better when he noticed that almost every bench was full, save for a wide gap between Ron and Hermione where Draco was undoubtedly sitting.

He still didn't know whether he thought that it was a good idea for Draco to be here or not. He wasn't sure he wanted Draco to hear about what went on between himself and Ethan, even if he did still hold him some-what responsible for it, and yet, a small part of him _wanted_ Draco to hear it and to feel guilty.

"If you could please take your seats, ladies and gentlemen," Fudge directed loudly over the din. "We are ready to start."

An expectant hush immediately settled over the room. The seriousness of the situation not lost on any member of the watching crowd as they felt the tension tight in the air around them.

"Bring him in," Fudge instructed gravely as he sat himself down front-row centre.

Harry tensed as the door opened and two guards appeared, both with a firm grip on either side of their prisoner.

Harry closed his eyes. A faint trembling had started up in his body and he clutched at the bench beneath him, listening helplessly as the sound of three people entered the courtroom and walked purposefully across the stone floor.

Ethan entered the room walking tall and proud; head held high and back straight. He obviously wasn't intimidated by the formal proceedings and eyed the expectant crowd with a haughty expression.

Harry heard the chains magically snake around Ethan's arms and legs and snap into place as he sat in the centre chair. Only then did Harry force himself to open his eyes.

The two guards had retreated to the back, leaving Ethan sitting alone and staring defiantly up at Fudge. Harry looked down at the floor and away from the captive prisoner.

"Let it be noted that this trial is taking place on the tenth of December in front of a full court. We are here concerning the disciplinary hearing of one Ethan Rabastan Lestrange. He is forthwith charged with intent to cause bodily harm and physical abuse to one Harry James Potter."

Harry's cheeks burned as the gathered crowd turned to look at him.

"Are you Ethan Rabastan Lestrange?" he heard Fudge ask.

"Yes."

Harry shivered as Ethan's voice rang out strong and cool.

"How do you plead?"

Ethan turned and stared straight at Harry as his frightened emerald eyes came up to meet him. "Not guilty."

The watching crowd broke out into whispered exclamations of surprise.

Fudge looked startled. "Not guilty?"

Harry felt trapped in those dark mocking eyes, his trembling seemed to double, as did his racing pulse.

Ethan smirked knowingly then turned back to the Minister of Magic. "Not guilty," he repeated calmly.

"A-alright," Fudge acknowledged, still a little surprised. "Would the court please take note that the defendant pleads 'not guilty' to all charges. I would also like to remind the jury that this hearing is for the charges against of physical abuse and is therefore separate from the murder charges - a trial for which will be held in three days time."

Harry's eyes snapped to Fudge, then to Dumbledore as the Minister's words sank in.

Ethan could conceivably get off. Without taking the murder charges into account, given that the jury takes what Fudge said to heart about keeping the two trails separate, then it was simply a case of Harry's word against Ethan's. Madam Pomfrey's medical report could only tell them so much, and not _who_ it was that had abused him, and Harry absolutely refused to go into detail about that. This whole procedure might be for nothing now. He had put himself through hell to get to this point and now it could all be for nothing.

He felt embarrassed and ashamed, and wanted nothing more than to be back by that open window of the school infirmary or alone and safe in his hospital bed.

But he wasn't. And he felt sick to his stomach as Ethan sent another smirk and a wink his way.

"Let's get started then, shall we?" Fudge spoke directly to Ethan. "The charges laid against you are as follows: that you did purposely cause bodily harm to Harry Potter on a number of occasions during the course of approximately two months, and attempted to take his life on the night of December the fourth at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

Here, Fudge stopped and peered over the edge of his paper at Ethan.

Ethan merely raised a brow and gazed back unwaveringly.

"Yes, uh..." Fudge cleared his throat. "The court now calls up the accuser - Harry James Potter."

Harry jumped and somehow managed to stumble obediently to his feet. Another chair appeared near Ethan's, only without the chains.

Harry suddenly felt as if his feet were made of lead, he couldn't move, he was completely rooted to the spot.

"It's alright, Harry," Dumbledore spoke up for the first time.

The two guards that had been sitting on either side of Harry stood and firmly took hold of his elbows to lead him forward.

Ethan watched Harry's approach with amusement.

Harry stared down at the floor as he walked towards the centre of the room, refusing to make eye-contact with anyone. He perched on the edge of the wooden chair, his body shifted over to the right side as far away from Ethan as he could get. The two guards retreated back to the bench, leaving Harry alone in the centre with Ethan by his side. He clasped his hands in his lap and determinedly kept his gaze downwards.

"Hello, love," Ethan whispered, causing Harry's skin to crawl as he stared at the floor.

"Are you Harry James Potter?" Fudge questioned.

"Yes," Harry replied inaudibly, acutely aware of Ethan's close proximity.

"Speak up."

"_Yes_."

"And you hereby agree that the man on your left is in fact Ethan Lestrange and that you wilfully charge him with the crimes previously listed?"

Harry opened his mouth but no sound came out. He could just say no and this whole thing would simply be over, finished, forgotten...

"Mr Potter?"

Harry swallowed and looked up at Fudge's impatient face. His eyes slowly travelled past the portly Minister, up the many levels, and came to rest on his two best friends.

Ron nervously licked his lips as he leaned forward, and Hermione gave him an encouraging nod.

Surprisingly, Harry wished that he could've seen Draco's face in that moment.

He suddenly remembered the note still tucked away in his pocket. He absently reached in to touch the wrinkled parchment and closed his eyes. He thought of his mum and how she was the reason he was still alive today. Her profound words were now forever etched into his mind.

He opened his eyes and took a deep breath – this is it, there's no going back after this.

"Yes."

Fudge nodded, satisfied. "Would you now please describe in full to the jury the nature of your relationship with Mr Lestrange?"

"Okay." Harry swallowed and wished that he had had some water to relieve his suddenly dry throat. "Um, I became friends with...him near the start of term, but we didn't start...er, dating until November."

The crowd broke out into hushed conversations following Harry's admission. Obviously his sexual orientation was news to them.

"Leave it to me to 'out' myself in front of two hundred people including members of the press," Harry's inner voice chirped up sarcastically.

"So you had a consensual relationship with Mr Lestrange?" Fudge inquired.

"Yes."

"So he was your...boyfriend?"

Harry really wished he had that water now. "Yes."

"And when did you break it off with him?"

Uh oh.

"I- I didn't." Harry flushed.

"You never broke up with him even though he was physically harming you?"

"No," Harry admitted quietly.

"Why not?"

"I dunno." Harry shrugged uncomfortably.

Fudge pursed his lips and made a note on his paper.

Harry chanced a glance over to the jury and saw a few of them frowning and shaking their heads.

"And what do you say to that, Mr Lestrange?" Fudge asked, turning to the quiet young man.

"I didn't abuse him," Ethan replied calmly. "But we did become good friends at the start of term, and we would've been dating sooner had he not been seeing someone else at the time."

Harry whipped his head around to stare at Ethan's smug expression.

Luckily Fudge didn't comment, but Harry knew that Ethan had just played his ace.

Dumbledore shifted in his seat.

"So you still claim that you never physically hurt, Mr Potter?" Fudge continued, unawares.

"That's right, I never touched him."

"Mr Potter, please tell us your version of the events of the night of December the fourth."

Harry nodded and tried to get his mind back on the questions at hand. "Well, er...it was late at night and the two of us went to the Great Hall-"

"You went out to meet your boyfriend past curfew?" Fudge asked, superciliously.

"I guess, but-"

"Willingly?"

"Yes, but-"

"Continue."

Harry tried to control his frustration. This was exactly like the last time Fudge had questioned him in this room, and he wasn't even the one on trial this time.

"Well, we went into the Hall and he tied me to a chair and...and he said that he was going to kill me."

"But you escaped. How?"

"Uh..." Harry faltered, glancing at Dumbledore.

"That is not the issue here, Cornelius," Dumbledore put in firmly.

"Very well," Fudge huffed, scribbling some more notes onto his paper. "Were there any other witnesses besides yourself, Mr Potter?"

"No," Harry answered quickly, not daring to look at Ethan.

"What about you, Mr Lestrange?" Fudge asked, turning his attention back to the other boy. "Is that how it happened?"

"No." Ethan smiled. "Harry here left out a few key facts, like how he _asked_ me to kill him." Ethan turned cruel eyes towards Harry. "And there _was_ someone else there."

Harry felt all the blood drain from his face. "Please don't," he whispered.

"Harry Potter _asked_ you to kill him?" Fudge frowned sceptically.

Ethan turned back to the Minister. "Yes."

"Is this true, Mr Potter?"

Harry felt every eye in the room riveted to him.

"Well?"

"Yes," he admitted weakly.

There was a collective gasp and a general explosion of noise from the crowd.

Harry chanced a glance up at Ron and Hermione and saw their shocked faces. Beside them, Mrs Weasley was dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief. Hermione quickly leaned over to whisper something to Draco and laid a restraining hand on his invisible arm.

Ethan took the opportunity to speak to Harry quietly below the noise of the crowd.

"Drop the charges, Potter, and I won't tell them about that blond-haired traitor."

"What do you care?" Harry answered slowly, not quite meeting his eyes. "You're going to be sentenced for murder anyway."

"Maybe, maybe not." Ethan smirked. "Besides, it's the principle of the matter. Do it or I'll take Malfoy down with me."

Before Harry could reply, Fudge managed to call the court back to order.

"Another outburst like that and I will make this a closed hearing," he threatened. "Now, Mr Lestrange-"

Harry jumped to his feet and shot a hand into the air.

"Yes, Mr Potter?" Fudge asked with a hint of exasperation.

"I need a break."

"But we've only just begun."

"I, uh...need to use the washroom."

Fudge sighed. "Very well, court will take a ten minute recess."

Harry breathed out in relief and tried to catch Dumbledore's eye as everyone stood to stretch their legs and chat with their neighbours. Dumbledore gave a tiny nod to show that he saw him, then descended to the floor and headed for the door.

Harry quickly followed.

Dumbledore shut the courtroom door firmly behind them and stood facing Harry in the quiet seclusion of the hallway.

"What is it?"

"Ethan is going to tell everyone about Draco and me and that he was there trying to save me that night if I don't drop the charges," Harry explained in a rush.

"Hmm..." Dumbledore frowned thoughtfully, one hand stroking his long, white beard. "What do you want to do?"

"Me?" Harry asked in surprise. "I don't really have a choice, do I? I'm going to have to drop the charges."

Dumbledore hesitated before speaking. "There is a way you could charge Ethan_ and_ keep Mr Malfoy safe."

"How?"

"The court will discount anything Ethan says if you go in there prepared to tell the whole story under the influence of Veritaserum."

"Veritaserum?" Harry swallowed. "But...then they could ask me anything and I'll have to answer."

"Yes, but you have nothing to be frightened of, Harry. The truth can be our most powerful ally."

"I'm not scared, I just...I can't..." Harry turned and leaned against the wall in frustration, his forehead resting against his forearm, eyes closed. "Please don't make me," he whispered.

"No one's going to force you, Harry. It's your decision."

Harry felt as if a steel claw had grabbed a hold of his heart and was slowly squeezing it tighter and tighter. The weight of responsibility and of what was right lay heavy on his shoulders and in his mind. Everything always hung on his decisions. Who was to say which decision was right?

Maybe going to Hogwarts had been the wrong decision. Maybe refusing Malfoy that first day had been wrong. Allowing Cedric to take the Tri-wizard Cup with him was wrong. Maybe allowing himself to become close with Sirius had been wrong, or loving him, or loving Draco, or hoping, or fighting, laughing, crying, wishing...

But Harry knew in his heart that letting revenge and retaliation jade his choices _was_ wrong. He knew that he couldn't leave Draco's fate in the hands of his father or the other Death Eaters if it was discovered that he was a traitor to the Dark Lord. Draco might've been an insufferably cruel bastard, but he wasn't the pure evil that made up Voldemort's minions and hopefully never would. Harry had seen too much of another side to the Slytherin boy, and that was Draco's saving grace in Harry's eyes.

Dumbledore placed one hand on the metal doorknob of Courtroom Ten and waited for Harry to make the next move.

Harry took a deep breath and raised his head from the crook of his arm.

"Alright, I'll do it."

Dumbledore smiled proudly. "I knew you would do the right thing, Harry. You're stronger than you think. You're doing a very noble thing for, Mr Malfoy."

"I'm not doing this for him," Harry said, coldly. "And I'm not doing this to be noble, I'm doing this to get one step closer to bringing down Voldemort. We have precious few spies for our side and we need all the help we can get. We need Draco alive. This has nothing to do with me."

Dumbledore turned the door handle and paused, regarding Harry sadly. "I'm sorry to hear that, Harry. I wish that things had been different for you, I wish so many good things for you, but the fact of the matter is, this is your life and you can't change the past, but the future has yet to be written. Don't let past mistakes ruin what could be. I thought that you more than anyone else would know the pain of realizing that they had made a mistake." He paused thoughtfully. "I guess what I'm saying, Harry, is that you should be doing this for yourself and no one else, and maybe afterwards you will come through it with the ability to see clearly enough to realize what has always been right in front of you."

Harry could only stare in confusion as his headmaster swung open the heavy door with a rusty screech of hinges and disappeared into the courtroom.

Dumbledore's words, although very wise, always left him feeling thoroughly confused.

"I thought he didn't want me and Draco together?" he thought, then blinked in realization. "Maybe he wasn't talking about Draco..."

Harry shook his head and exhaled shakily, the irrevocable force of what was to come suddenly hitting him completely and taking over any other muddled thought occupying his mind. He grabbed the slowly closing door and hauled it open.

He strode back into the room, mustering as much inner strength as he could, and took his seat next to Ethan.

Dumbledore leaned in to converse in low tones with the Minister of Magic. Fudge nodded, his eyes flicking to Harry and back as the headmaster talked in his ear.

Dumbledore finished speaking and settled back down in his seat amongst the rest of the Wizengamot.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Fudge called loudly as he got to his feet. "There will be a change of plans with regards to the procedure of this case."

The audience shifted expectantly and trained curious eyes on the Minister of Magic.

Harry raised his eyes to watch his friend's reactions.

"The accuser – Harry James Potter – has agreed to proceed with the trial under the influence of Veritaserum."

A few excited gasps of surprise sounded from the room.

Ron and Hermione glanced at each other in shock.

"Ethan Lestrange's account of previous events and actions will be forthwith stricken from the record."

"What!?" Ethan exclaimed angrily.

Harry flinched at the sound of Ethan's violent shout.

Fudge frowned warningly at him. "Hold your tongue, Mr Lestrange. There will be no more outbursts from you in this court, is that clear? Or we will be forced to send you back to your cell."

Ethan slowly closed his mouth, his eyes narrowed with absolute venom at the Minister. He then turned his head and fixed his dark eyes upon Harry's trembling form.

Harry felt his breath catch in his throat as Ethan's gaze burned into him. He closed his eyes and prayed for the Minister to continue.

Fudge beckoned to the short witch in the pink suit that he had been speaking with earlier. She immediately nodded and walked briskly over to the Minister, a heavy black case with a silver handle clutched in one hand.

Harry watched in trepidation as she clicked open the clasps with her wand and lifted out a fragile-looking glass bottle filled with clear liquid.

He suddenly felt the crazy urge to make a run for it and bolt out of the room, but the same fear that made him want to run also kept him frozen in his seat, watching helplessly as the pink witch walked towards him with the Veritaserum.

When she stopped in front of him, he could see up close that she actually had very pale blue eyes that were warm and friendly. Her expression was a mixture of understanding and sympathy, her face sweet and youthful, the peaches and cream complexion of a young child radiating from her, and her blond hair fell in soft waves around her shoulders.

"Hi, Harry," she greeted warmly, as if they were having a private conversation, just the two of them. "My name is Miranda Bloomwood. I just need you to sign this paper saying that you agree to take the Veritaserum before we begin. Is that alright?"

Harry nodded, not trusting his voice at the moment, and took the black feather quill with a shaking hand.

"Don't you fucking dare, Potter," Ethan hissed threateningly.

Harry jumped and dropped the quill to the floor.

"S-sorry," he mumbled apologetically.

"That's okay, Harry." Miranda smiled. "Let's try that again, shall we?"

Miranda scooped up the fallen quill and held it out for Harry to take.

"I'm warning you, Potter..."

"I think that's quite enough out of you," Miranda said, sharply. She lifted her wand and pointed it straight at Ethan's sneering face. "Silencio!"

Ethan opened his mouth in outrage, but of course nothing came out, which seemed to only enrage him more, his face turning a nasty shade of red and purple.

"I dare say that that's an improvement." Miranda grinned, winking at Harry.

Harry actually smiled at her in return, his eyes flicking to Ethan's flushed face and back. He began feeling something which could only be described as confidence beginning to flow through his body, a feeling that he thought he would never feel again, a feeling he thought he had lost forever, but now reminded him how he used to live his life.

Ethan seemed just a little less threatening and a good deal more vulnerable in his forced silence.

Harry smiled and signed his name to the paper with a flourish.

Ethan fumed in silence.

"Thank you, Harry." Miranda took the paper and folded it back into her pocket. "Now, if you will open your mouth, I'll administer the serum."

Harry lifted his chin and focused on his new-found strength to get him through the next step. He opened his mouth and closed his eyes. He directly felt three separate drops of serum fall onto his tongue.

The Veritaserum took immediate effect. Harry closed his mouth and blinked his eyes open warily, his mind suddenly becoming foggy and convoluted, his vision blurring around the edges, but his hearing seemed to be sharpening, voices ringing out clear as a bell, like a hypnotic lullaby.

"Harry?"

"Yes?" Harry heard himself answer from far away.

"How do you feel?"

"Okay."

"Could you answer a few questions for me?"

Miranda. He finally put the name to the voice.

"Yes," he answered automatically. It was as if his mouth and his brain were no longer connected, although, if you asked Professor Snape he would've said that that had nothing to do with the Veritaserum.

"Are you Harry James Potter?"

"Yes."

"When is your birthday?"

"July thirty-first."

"What do you want for your birthday?"

"I dunno..."

"Come on, you must want something. What did your family get you last year?"

"Nothing. They never get me anything."

A pause. "Surely you've gotten birthday presents before?"

"I got a Firebolt from my godfather two years ago."

"Really? That sounds pretty nice to me. I didn't even know you had a godfather. What's his-"

"I think that's enough, Ms Bloomwood. The serum appears to be working fine."

Harry tilted his head at the sudden intrusion of another voice – Dumbledore's voice.

"Alright."

Harry watched as the blurry pink shape moved away from him and a new dark purple form approached.

"Harry-"

Harry pursed his lips thoughtfully. Another new voice – Fudge. This, he knew, is where the questions would get tough.

"- has Ethan Lestrange ever hit or harmed you in any way?"

"No."

There was a faint murmur from the crowd.

"Cornelius." Dumbledore spoke up. "Remember that your questions will be taken, and therefore answered, literally."

"Oh, yes, of course." Fudge cleared his throat. "Harry, has Ethan _Fiori_ ever mistreated you?"

"Yes."

Fudge smiled satisfactorily. "Can you please tell the court the exact details of how he abused you from the beginning of your relationship up until the night of December the tenth?"

"Yes," Harry answered obediently, his voice now becoming the flat monotone pitch that people usually associate with Veritaserum. "Our relationship officially started right after one of my quidditch games against Slytherin. I was feeling really hurt and angry at the time because I saw my ex kissing someone else, so I stormed off and Ethan came after me. I just needed to feel as if someone really cared about me, and he was always around – helping me, comforting me."

"So it started as a regular relationship, no hitting or verbal abuse at all?" Fudge asked.

"That's right," Harry continued emotionlessly. "The first incident didn't occur until much later, I think the middle of October or something. I was in his dorm room and we were kissing, it got pretty intense and he wanted to go further, but I said no. He got angry when I kept asking him to stop, so he hit me."

"How did he hit you?"

"It was a slap, across my cheek."

"Hard?"

"Yes, very."

Fudge nodded thoughtfully. "Okay, please continue."

"He apologized right away and kept telling me that it would never happen again and that he loved me."

"And you believed him?"

"Yes, he'd always been so nice and gentle, so I had no reason not to."

"Go on," Fudge instructed.

"He was fine, in fact, he was extra nice to me after that, and I thought everything was okay. Then he got really upset when he saw me kissing someone else."

"You kissed someone else?" Fudge asked in surprise.

"Yes," Harry confirmed without hesitation. "It was an accident, we were arguing and I just found myself-"

"Who was it?"

Harry opened his mouth to answer, but inside he was desperately trying to fight the impulse.

"Harry!"

Harry jumped and looked up at Dumbledore, his mouth still open.

"Don't answer that."

"Now, Albus," Fudge started, looking miffed.

"We can not bring this other student's name into this without his consent. It was an isolated incident in which he doesn't deserve to have his name splashed all over the front page of the Daily Prophet for."

Harry expelled his breath in relief.

"Very well," Fudge conceded, sulkily. "So, he saw you kissing _someone_ and then what?"

"I ran after him in the corridor and tried to apologize, and that's when he punched me – hard. It broke my glasses."

"And yet you _still_ stayed with him?"

"Yes, it was my fault after all. I deserved it."

Fudge's expression softened slightly. "Is that why you never broke up with him, because you thought you deserved it all?"

"Yes." Somewhere in the back of Harry's mind he noticed that his eyes were beginning to prickle with tears.

"I assume the violence escalated from there?"

"Yes."

"Why is it no one noticed? Surely you must've had visible marks or bruises?"

"I used a concealment charm."

Fudge shook his head in disbelief. "What else did he do to you when the situation was at its worst?"

The tears spilled over as the answer was forced out of him. "He broke my nose, my ribs, my arm, dislocated my knee, cut me with a knife, tied me up in his room and used Cruciatus on me-"

"What?!" Fudge exclaimed, startled. "He used an Unforgivable on you?"

Harry nodded dully.

"My, god…" Fudge breathed in shock, glancing at Ethan.

Ethan glared menacingly at Harry.

Fudge looked distinctly uncomfortable, as if he didn't really want to know the answer, as he asked his next question. "Did he ever rape you?"

Harry could feel the entire room holding its breath, awaiting his answer.

"No."

Fudge sighed in relief, and seemed to get his courage back. "Did you ever have consensual sex with him?"

"Minister!" Miranda exclaimed angrily, standing up. "Surely that's not necessary!"

"Harry?" Fudge prompted, ignoring her.

"No, I didn't."

Fudge nodded, again looking relieved. He turned to address the jury.

"You have in front of you a copy of the medical report from Madam Pomfrey, the Hogwarts head nurse, and you will see that it does indeed confirm the allegations that Mr Potter has described. You will also see that the report makes mention of the Inflecto potion. She found traces of it in his system when she made the initial report on December the fourth."

Harry frowned in confusion, the words swirling around him a haze.

"Harry." Fudge turned towards him once more. "Do you know what the Inflecto potion is?"

"No."

"Were you aware of the fact that you had ingested it in the past few months?"

"No," Harry answered, his stomach clenching in fear. "What does it do?"

"Tell me something, Harry, did you have a fight with anyone other than, Ethan?"

"Yes, my friends and just about everyone in my house at school."

"Do you know why you fought with them?"

"Um." Harry racked his brain. "Not really, I don't remember…"

"The Inflecto potion causes people to feel negative thoughts a lot more powerfully than what is normal. Like sadness, fear, jealousy, anger, greed, and loneliness for example. Your mind gets so wrapped up with the pain of these feelings that it causes you to do or say things you normally wouldn't, but the emotions are so intense and all-consuming you don't remember a thing afterwards. It's my guess that Ethan slipped this potion to you undetected in order to separate you from your friends or anyone that might notice your unhealthy state."

Harry tried to concentrate on the Minister's words and take it all in. He glanced up at Ron and Hermione, wondering if they already knew about all this, but he couldn't clearly make out their faces – it was too dark and blurry.

He was beginning to feel nauseous and a little dizzy from all the stress and the strong potion churning in his empty stomach.

"Now, Mr Potter," Fudge continued. "The statement you made earlier concerning the events of the night of December the fourth, was that a truthful and accurate assessment?"

"Yes."

"Did Ethan say that he was going to kill you?"

'Yes."

"And he would've done so had you not escaped?"

"Yes." Harry swallowed and prayed that he wouldn't be sick in front of all these people, including Ethan. He didn't want to give him the satisfaction.

"Did you know going in that that's what he was planning to do?"

"I figured it was."

"And yet you still went. Did you ask him to kill you before or after he told you he was going to do it?"

"Erm…before, I think."

"Hmm…"

Harry fidgeted nervously.

"Tell me, Harry, why did you want to die?"

Harry closed his eyes in pain, unable to stop himself from answering. "Because I have nothing and no one to live for, because I've loved and lost more times than I care to count. How would you feel if your sole purpose in life was to kill Voldemort-"

Fudge winced uncomfortably, along with the rest of the silently enraptured crowd.

"- and watch everyone around you die along the way?"

Harry could feel the sudden onslaught of tears as they streamed down his cheeks and fell onto his clasped hands. He wanted to stop talking, he felt ashamed and humiliated beyond belief, and completely naked in front of all these people - his deepest emotions and feelings on display for everyone to see. He knew they would certainly despise him or think him selfish after this was all over and done with.

"Do you still wish that you were dead?" Fudge asked, quietly.

Harry dropped his head into his hands and sobbed. "I don't know…"

"I think that's enough," Miranda Bloomwood said quietly, but firmly.

"Yes, that should do it," Fudge sighed, watching Harry's shaking shoulders sympathetically. "Thank you, Mr Potter."

Harry tried to stop crying, but found the sudden overflowing of emotions too much for him to handle.

He felt a warm hand on his shoulder and looked up into Miranda's pale blue eyes.

She lifted his chin with her other hand and gazed directly into his watery eyes. "You're a good person, Harry Potter."

Harry gulped and exhaled shakily.

"Here." She pressed a white handkerchief that smelled of lavender into his hand.

"Thanks." Harry closed his hand around it gratefully.

Meanwhile, Fudge was standing by the jury and talking to them earnestly.

"Are they going to decide right away?" Harry asked Miranda quietly.

"I believe so. Do you want me to stay here with you?"

Harry gave a tiny smile. "Thank you, but I think I need to finish this myself."

"Okay." She smiled and squeezed his shoulder one last time as she straightened up and returned to her seat.

Harry glanced out of the corner of his eye at, Ethan. The other boy was sitting slouched over in the heavy restraints, his right eye twitching slightly as he stared at the ground.

Harry turned his head fully to the left and stared at him, feeling that maybe this whole experience had been worth it after all. He had expected Ethan to mock him for breaking down into tears, and although he wasn't naïve enough to believe that the boy was sorry for what he'd done, he did look kind of defeated and sad – which was just as good.

Fudge walked back to his seat in front of Harry and Ethan.

"The jury has reached their decision."

Harry felt his stomach jump sickeningly and his heart beginning to thump loudly in his chest.

"I now ask the jury to raise their hands if they believe that these crimes deserve imprisonment in Azkaban."

Harry whipped his head around to the right and watched in astonishment as the entire jury raised their hands into the air, some of them even smiling at Harry or else smirking at Ethan.

Harry found himself smiling back. He couldn't believe it – he'd done it. He'd stood against Ethan and won.

Still smiling, he turned to face Ethan and wanted to laugh at the expression of angry indignation on his face, an expression that would've had Harry shaking with fear only hours before-hand.

Ethan's expression quickly changed to one of incensed fury when Harry winked at him.

"Ethan Lestrange, you are hereby convicted of the crimes with which you have committed and will see out your imprisonment in Azkaban following your other trial in three days time. Guards, if you would please take the prisoner away."

Harry watched as two guards stepped up to remove the chains on Ethan's arms and legs.

"Shall I remove the silencing spell now?" Miranda asked the Minister, withdrawing her wand.

"No, I think we'll just leave it for awhile," Fudge replied, a hint of a smile hovering about his lips.

"Yes, sir." Miranda covered up a chuckle with a quick cough behind her hand.

Ethan glared at Harry as he stood up, mouthing all kinds of nasty words his way. The guards quickly took a hold of his arms and began to escort him from the room.

Harry smiled and gave a cheerful wave.

Ethan's face turned bright red and his eyes widened in outrage.

Then he was gone.

"Court is adjourned," Fudge announced.

Dumbledore and Miranda immediately rushed to Harry's side, both of them smiling happily.

"Come on, Harry." Dumbledore motioned for him to stand. "The crowd must wait until the jury and the Wizengamot have both left before they are allowed to leave. You can wait for your friends outside."

Harry shakily got to his feet and put an arm around Dumbledore for support. His stomach was still a little queasy and the dizziness returned as he got his legs under him once more.

Suddenly the seated crowd began to applaud.

Harry looked up in surprise and saw them all beaming down at him proudly, even the newspaper and media reporters were clapping. Ron and Hermione leapt to their feet, cheering madly.

Harry blushed and ducked his head, but his face was split into a wide grin.

"Come on." Miranda smiled gently.

The three slowly made their way out of the room amid thunderous approval.

Harry felt as if he was walking on air the whole way.


	25. Spread Your Wings and Soar

_Don't be scared to fly alone  
Find a path that is your own  
Love will open every door  
See in your hands the world is yours  
Don't hold back and always know  
All the answers will unfold  
What are you waiting for  
Spread your wings and soar_

  
Harry found that he just couldn't seem to stop grinning like an idiot as he rode the lift back up to the Atrium with the headmaster and Miranda Bloomwood. 

He felt free from worry and fear, almost care-free…except for that little matter of – no. He wasn't going to think about Voldemort or prophecies or anything but the amazing feeling of freedom he was experiencing in that moment.

Harry's stomach gave a distinctly unpleasant lurch as the lift jolted to a stop.

"Uh, professor?"

"Yes, Harry?" Dumbledore glanced down at him as he helped him out of the lift.

"Do you know where the nearest toilet is?"

"Something wrong?"

"I think I'm going to be sick."

"Right. Ms Bloomwood, could you please wait by the fountain for the rest of Mr Potter's party? We shouldn't be too long."

"Of course." Miranda smiled sympathetically at Harry and walked off into the main room of the Atrium.

Luckily the loo was quite close by, located just at the end of the hallway beyond the last lift, and Harry rushed inside and fell to his knees in front of the nearest toilet.

Dumbledore kept himself busy in front of the large ornate mirror, combing his long snowy beard with a tiny purple comb and humming, ignoring the sounds of Harry retching into the toilet.

Harry collapsed with his back against the wall of the stall and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. He grimaced at the disgusting acidic taste in his mouth, absently appreciating the ingenuity of the makers of Bertie Botts Every Flavour Beans and how dead-on they were with the vomit flavoured ones.

"Feel better?" Dumbledore asked.

"Yeah." Harry cautiously got to his feet and flushed the toilet before heading to the sinks to splash his face with cold water.

The golden sinks all stood in a row with tiny never-ending fountains of water splashing down into the shiny bowls.

"Mint Hum-bug?" Dumbledore offered, extracting a silver bag of candy from his robe.

"Yeah, thanks." Harry took the pro-offered candy with a tired smile, wondering if the man was keeping Honeydukes in business single-handedly.

Dumbledore popped a toffee into his own mouth before placing the bag back into his pocket. "That should help settle your stomach as well as give you something a little nicer to taste than your previously digested dinner."

Harry made a face and munched on the sweet candy. "Actually, I haven't had anything to eat all day."

"You took Veritaserum on an empty stomach?"

"Well, I didn't know at the time that I would be taking it," Harry snapped defensively. "But I probably would've been sick anyway, I was so scared and nervous and then so happy and relieved all at once – it's no wonder that I was feeling nauseous."

"Too true." Dumbledore nodded.

"I'm just glad it's over," Harry sighed, staring at his pale face in the mirror.

Dumbledore paused. "You did great in there, Harry. Better then I could've hoped, and I think you came out stronger in the end."

Harry snorted and rolled his eyes. "Sure, sobbing into my hands was a true display of manly strength."

"But it released something, didn't it? I think that was the turning point in there, you showed them that you had indeed been put through a lot this year and were capable of triumphing over your demons. You made sure that the guilty person paid for their crimes no matter how hard it was for you and despite all personal cost."

Harry remained silent and stared down at the swirling water in the sink below him.

Dumbledore gently took him by the shoulders and turned him around the face him.

"Listen to me, Harry," he began seriously. "You not only did yourself and our side some good, but you will be helping other people in your situation realise the strength they have to remove themselves from harmful relationships like yours. They will see that the famous Harry Potter isn't perfect and can be hurt just like the rest of us, but can also find the will and the power to come out okay in the end. To go on living."

Harry nodded, digesting all that the headmaster had said.

Dumbledore smiled. "Are you ready now?"

Harry looked up. "Yeah, let's go."

"What did you think of Ms Bloomwood?" Dumbledore asked as they exited the washroom.

Harry shrugged. "Oh, well…you know, she's very pretty I suppose…"

Dumbledore chuckled. "No, I mean what did you think of her as a person?"

"Oh." Harry flushed. "She was really nice, supportive without being overly sympathetic or condescending."

"Good, good. Because she'll be coming back to Hogwarts with us, just in case you need someone to talk to…"

"Why would I want to talk to a lawyer?" Harry asked in confusion.

"A lawyer?" Dumbledore knitted his brows in puzzlement.

"Yeah, you know, a…you don't know, do you?"

"I'm afraid not. Harry, Ms Bloomwood is a therapist. St Mungo's finest, I'd say."

"A therapist? Why was a therapist at the trial?"

Miranda stood and waved as Harry and the headmaster came into view. Dumbledore raised a hand in greeting and steered Harry towards the fountain.

"I asked her to be there," he answered.

"Why?" Harry asked curiously.

"She was there for your well-being. To make sure the Minister stayed in line with his somewhat intrusive line of questioning and, as you say, she was nice and supportive – and pretty."

Harry felt his cheeks redden as they finally met up with Ms Bloomwood.

"Feeling better, Harry?" she asked.

"Yes, thank you."

"I hope you didn't lose your lunch." She winked teasingly.

"Actually, I did throw-up, but I haven't eaten anything all day so it was mostly bile."

Miranda raised a brow in surprise as Dumbledore laughed heartily. Harry clapped a hand over his mouth in horror.

"Well, I think it's safe to say that the Veritaserum is still working," the headmaster chuckled.

Harry sat himself down on the edge of the fountain and kept his mouth firmly closed.

The two adults laughed as Harry glowered at them.

"Harry!"

Harry looked up and saw Hermione and Ron racing across the Atrium towards him, grinning madly.

Harry's face broke out into a smile as he stood up.

Hermione threw herself into Harry's arms, almost knocking them both backwards into the fountain in her enthusiasm. Ron patted him on the back and the trio laughed together as they hadn't done in a very long time.

Dumbledore and Ms Bloomwood walked off to talk with Ron's parents a little ways away.

Harry stepped back and simply took in the fact that his best friends were once again at his side.

"Where's Malfoy?" he asked, figuring that the blond was probably still hiding under the invisibility cloak somewhere nearby.

"He left," Hermione answered carefully.

"He left? When?"

"Right after the trial ended," said Ron. "Stupid git stepped on my foot in his rush to get out."

Hermione elbowed him sharply.

"Ow!" Ron exclaimed. "What was that for?"

"It's okay, Hermione." Harry smiled. "He is a stupid git, and I need to talk to the two of you alone anyway. Let's sit down."

The three sat on the edge of the fountain, watching the ripples of water lapping up against the stone base beside them.

"Look, I just wanted to apologize," Harry began.

"Harry-"

"No, Hermione," Harry cut across her firmly. "I know you're just going to blame the Inflecto potion, but the truth of the matter is I wouldn't have gotten so angry and upset if I hadn't already felt those things in some small way. I don't remember what I said to you guys, but I'm guessing it was pretty horrible and I'm sorry. I'm really, really sorry and I can assure you that I didn't mean any of it. I don't want to make excuses, but I wasn't myself then."

"Oh, Harry," Hermione said, her voice wavering slightly. "We forgive you. We were just so worried about you and now we know why you were acting the way you did. You'll have to do a lot worse to get rid of _us_ as friends."

Harry smiled and hugged Hermione in thanks.

"Are we okay then, Ron?" he asked over her shoulder.

"Yeah, of course we are, mate." Ron smiled. "But you don't have to hug me or anything," he added hastily.

Harry and Hermione laughed, and Hermione quickly wiped her eyes on her sleeve. The boys pretended not to notice and averted their eyes to the fountain instead.

"Oh, I almost forgot," Harry exclaimed suddenly. He stood up and reached into his pocket, extracting a green velvet money bag with gold ties.

"What are you doing?" Ron asked.

"I have a promise to keep," Harry replied secretively. He opened the bag and dumped the entire contents into the water.

"Harry!" Ron said in alarm. "That must've been at least fifteen galleons!"

"Eighteen actually, but who's counting?" Harry shrugged.

"You're mental."

Harry laughed at Ron's incredulous expression.

"That's a nice pouch, Harry." Hermione eyed the velvet bag appraisingly. "Where did you get it?"

Harry looked down at the bag still clutched in his hand. "It was a gift, from Draco actually."

She paused, considering. "Harry, you should talk to him. He was really-"

"I will," Harry interrupted briskly. "Later."

Hermione was about to say more when the arrival of the adults interrupted her.

"Harry, my boy." Mr Weasley beamed. "Knew you would win. That cowardly creep got what he deserved."

Mrs Weasley enveloped Harry in a crushing hug, her eyes still red and puffy. "Everything always seems happens to you doesn't it, dear?"

"That's what Hagrid said," Harry mumbled into her shoulder.

Mrs Weasley pulled away, smiling tearfully at him. Harry looked away in embarrassment.

"I think it's time we got going," Dumbledore announced.

"Where is everyone?" Ron asked. "The place is empty."

"It's quite late, son," Mr Weasley replied, glancing around the empty Ministry building. "I expect everyone's gone home for the day."

"Oh, right. I'm surprised the press didn't hang around to snap Harry's picture."

"The guards ushered them out straight away," Ms Bloomwood answered.

Ron blushed as the blond witch smiled at him.

Harry followed behind the others as they walked towards the exit. He paused beside the fountain and dropped the velvet pouch into the water where it floated for a moment before sinking beneath the surface. Without even sparing it a second look, he ran to catch up with Ron.

"So are we going to have a celebratory dinner tonight?" Ron asked.

Dumbledore chuckled. "I dare say a good feast is in order."

"Excellent!" Ron licked his lips.

"Don't you think about anything besides your stomach?" Hermione asked, coming up behind them.

"Of course I do," Ron retorted indignantly. "I think about loads of things."

"Like what, quidditch?"

"Isn't that right, Harry?" Ron implored, ignoring her.

"Ah, I wouldn't ask Mr Potter anything you don't want the absolute truth about, he is still under the effects of the Veritaserum," Dumbledore informed them over his shoulder.

"Really?" Ron turned towards Harry with a sudden gleam in his eyes.

"Now, Ron…" Harry said warningly.

"Harry James Potter, did you or did you not steal my Ptolemy wizard card back in fourth year?"

"Y-yes," Harry replied haltingly, trying to hold it in.

"Ah ha! I knew it!" Ron exclaimed triumphantly.

"But that was when we had that big row and weren't speaking to each other," Harry tried to explain.

"So why didn't you give it back to me afterwards?"

"I burnt it," Harry admitted miserably.

"Tut, tut." Ron shook his head in mock-disapproval. "Guilty as charged."

"Stop it, Ron." Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Don't you have any burning questions to ask our truth-spouting friend here?"

Hermione eyed Harry figuratively.

"Not you too," Harry groaned.

"No, I just thought…" she trailed off and grabbed Harry's elbow to slow him down a few paces back from the adults. "If you wanted to know how you really felt about Malfoy, then now's the time to find out. I could ask you…"

Harry sighed. "The thing is…I don't think I want to know."

"So you're still mad at him?" Ron asked.

"I'd rather not think about it right now if you don't mind."

"Sure, Harry, we understand." Hermione gave his arm a squeeze. "We'll talk about something else."

"Like what kind of food we'll be eating tonight at your party," Ron said dreamily.

Harry and Hermione laughed as Ron looked at them in bewilderment.

"What'd I say?"

**   
  
. . .**

  
  
"To, Harry!"

"To, Harry!" They all chorused.

The man of the hour blushed and smiled, green eyes full of unspoken emotion.

They all toasted Harry's triumph with a swig of pumpkin juice and Harry fondly regarded the group gathered around the table. Everyone that mattered to him was there; the entire Weasley clan (excluding Percy), Hermione, Dumbledore, Hagrid, Neville and his infamous grandmother, McGonagall, Madam Pomfrey, and even professor Snape. He'd been told that Snape had rushed off to get Dumbledore and the Ministry guards in order to save his life that night less than a week ago, and he now found that he just couldn't hate the man with as much vigour as before.

He felt cozy surrounded by his make-shift family, overpowering the uneasiness he was experiencing from being back in the Great Hall for the first time since 'the incident.' It had been hard walking back into the school again, so many horrible memories lurking around every corner, still so fresh in his mind and laying heavy on his heart.

People began to chat as they dug into their food, and Hermione, who was seated to Harry's right, turned to speak quietly to him.

"I wonder where Draco is?"

"I dunno." Harry shrugged indifferently.

Hermione made a noise of exasperation. "Oh, come on, Harry. Don't you want to talk to him?"

"Not particularly, no. And since when is he 'Draco' to you?"

"Since I decided that the git deserves a second chance, or," she said loudly as Harry opened his mouth to protest. "At least be told why you've decided to remove him from your life altogether."

"Isn't it obvious?" said Harry. "Besides, it was Malfoy that decided to remove _me_ from _his _life first. I've already given him my reasons."

"But you were angry then," Hermione reasoned. "Now you've had time to gain some perspective-"

"And I'm still angry. Why does everyone think that I'm just going to return to my life good as new, as if nothing had ever happened?" Harry exclaimed furiously.

"I don't think that, Harry," Hermione said, patiently. "I just don't think you should leave it this way."

Harry put down his fork and tried to speak calmly. "Hermione, he doesn't deserve an explanation. He doesn't deserve a fucking thing from me."

"Don't you know how sorry he is for everything?"

"Good! He should be sorry, he should be wallowing in guilt and regret and self-hatred."

"Harry," Hermione said disappointedly. "I didn't know you were so vindictive."

"Yeah? Well, being beaten within an inch of your life can do that to a person."

"It's not entirely his fault," Hermione spoke hesitantly.

"What?" Harry exclaimed.

"I mean, you made some bad choices, too."

Harry gaped. "I can't believe you're taking his side!"

"I'm not taking sides!" she cried in exasperation. "I'm merely saying that in all fairness you can't place all the blame on his shoulders."

Harry shook his head in disbelief.

"Listen, I know the situation with Ethan was beyond a nightmare for you, not that I pretend to know how it feels, but you don't know how that night I found you unconscious in the broom shed has haunted me. I was so outraged and angry at Ethan for doing that to you…but not once did I think of or blame Malfoy. It was Ethan who hurt you, Harry. I know Malfoy hurt you too, in a different way, but breaking up with a person is a lot easier to forgive then actually breaking someone."

Harry sighed, his anger vanishing as quickly as it had come. "It did hurt – a lot. It felt like he ripped my heart out and stepped on it for everyone to see. It wasn't enough that he broke up with me but he humiliated me as well."

"So tell him," Hermione urged. "Tell him everything you just said to me, just don't blame him for Ethan's actions. I know he blames himself for all that's happened to you and a person shouldn't have to live with that. Let him make it up to you, Harry, I know he so desperately wants to. And remember that at one time he did make you happy."

Harry heaved another sigh. He knew deep down that what Hermione was saying made sense. Maybe he did put an unnecessary amount of blame on Draco for the poor choices he'd made himself, not that he was about to forgive the blond, but…maybe he should at least talk to him, even just to clear the air between them so that he could move on with his life.

"Alright," he finally relented. "I'll talk to him, but that's all – I'm not making any promises that we'll be best friends by the end of the night or that I'll even be nice."

Hermione smiled. "That's all I ask."

Harry returned the smile and extracted his legs from beneath the table to stand up.

"He's outside by the lake," Hermione mentioned nonchalantly.

"I thought you didn't know where he was?" Harry asked suspiciously.

"I lied."

Harry rolled his eyes and started away from the table.

"Where ya going, Harry?" Ron called out.

"Just going for a walk."

"But you're going to miss dessert!"

"You can have mine," Harry answered over his shoulder as he strolled out through the double doors.

Ron smiled and returned to telling Ms Bloomwood all about the newest seeker for the Chudley Cannons as he shovelled his mouth full of mashed potatoes.

  
  
** . . .**

  
  
Harry pushed open the heavy castle doors and stepped out into the moon-lit night. He tilted his head back and closed his eyes, revelling in the cold air and peaceful silence. The Great Hall had felt stuffy and claustrophobic and he didn't even want to imagine what it'll be like when all the students return after the holidays.

Harry sighed and reluctantly opened his eyes. He descended the stairs onto the frosty grass that crunched noisily under his feet and started off towards the lake with his hands deep in his cloak pockets.

It didn't take long before the darkness began to press in on him from all sides. He stopped short, recognizing the beginnings of a panic attack – the quickening of breath, the rapid beating of his heart, the silence growing in intensity until it was almost unbearable.

"Get a grip, Harry," he sternly commanded under his breath.

The sudden hooting of an owl and the snapping of branches as it took flight nearby did nothing to alleviate his jittery nerves.

A chill suddenly crawled its way up his spine as he felt as if he was being watched. He spun around, completely forgetting that he was a wizard and had a wand tucked under his cloak, and scanned the darkness around him, his arms hanging uselessly by his sides.

He jumped and just barely suppressed a scream when he saw something moving amongst the bushes in the garden.

He stumbled backwards and fell as the 'thing' came running out into the moonlight.

"Mrs Norris?" Harry gasped, watching as the ratty old cat went tearing by after a tiny scurrying mouse.

Harry pressed a hand to his chest and breathed deeply, his panic receding slightly. He turned to watch Mrs Norris' progress as she disappeared into the night. His eyes fell on the lone figure standing morosely under one of the weeping willow trees at the edge of the lake.

Harry quickly got to his feet and wiped the perspiration from his clammy forehead. He could make out the gleaming blond hair from there and breathed a sigh of relief when it became obvious that Draco had not noticed the dramatic scene unfolding by the garden.

Harry squared his shoulders and started towards the lake and Draco once more, his fear subsiding as his determination to be blunt and detached returned.

"Harry?" Draco looked up in surprise as the brunette approached.

"We need to talk," Harry stated.

"Alright," Draco replied slowly, apprehensively, but there was no mistaking the tiny spark of hope shining in those grey eyes.

Harry paused, and then averted his eyes, looking out over the glassy surface of the lake.

"Are you okay? You look a little pale."

Harry nodded silently.

"So…what did you want to talk about?" Draco broached hesitantly.

"I don't even know anymore," Harry sighed, feeling suddenly lost.

Draco bit his lip and sat down on the gnarled tree root curving up out of the ground from under the willow tree. He decided to wait out Harry's silence as he seemed to be trying to collect his thoughts.

Draco sat contemplating the thoughtful Gryffindor standing alone under the night sky. All he wanted to do was to wrap his arms around that too thin and fragile frame and protect him from the world. Harry looked so achingly young and vulnerable standing there, the weight of the world resting on his sixteen year old shoulders – a traumatic past and an uncertain future always preying on his mind.

It was painful to watch. It hurt to see Harry hurting and not knowing how it felt to be him or even how to begin to comfort him. All he could do was watch and feel helpless.

After five minutes of absolute silence Harry turned and sat down next to him, still staring out over the still water.

"Why did you leave after the trial?"

Draco blinked. "I would've thought that that was obvious."

"What do you mean?"

Now it was Draco's turn to stare out over the lake. "I didn't think that you'd want to see me. I heard everything you said in there and I…I know you blame me for everything – for Ethan." Draco paused, a bitter smile on his face. "I just assumed that you would punch me as soon as you saw me, not that I don't deserve it."

He stopped and rubbed his hands over his face wearily.

"I don't know what to say to you, Harry. I know how you feel and I can't stand the fact that you hate me so much and I just…I don't know what to do. Somehow 'I'm sorry' just isn't enough, is it?"

Harry sighed and fiddled with the fabric of his cloak, running the thick material through his fingers. "Enough for what?"

Draco swallowed. "Enough for us, enough for things to go back to the way they were before…"

"Before Ethan?"

"Before I broke up with you."

Harry sighed. "Why _did_ you break up with me?"

Draco stood and walked to the edge of the water, his arms wrapped protectively around himself.. "Because I was stupid, because I was scared, because I couldn't see any other way out. Pansy was threatening to tell my father everything…"

Harry's expression hardened. "How is your bitch of a girlfriend?"

Draco turned around. "What?"

Harry stood and stared accusingly at him. "Breaking up with me because you're scared of your father and the consequences of choosing the Light side is one thing, but deciding to pretend that you're straight and dating Pansy Parkinson on top of it all was really low, even for you."

"Harry, let me explain-"

"Explain what? That you're weak and cruel? I already know that. Tell me, how does it feel when she kisses you or when she calls your name? Do you tell her that you love her too, or are you going to tell me that you were thinking of me the whole time?"

"Harry, I _had_ to-"

"No!" Harry shouted angrily. "Please explain to me how fucking her was your only option!"

"I never slept with her-"

"Oh, what a relief," Harry spat sarcastically. "What bullshit."

"And," Draco continued loudly. "She blackmailed me, she used me, and I thought that it _was_ my only option. But it's over now. I ended it long ago."

"Breaking up must be your specialty."

"Harry, I hated every minute that I was with her. I wanted to be with you so badly that it hurt."

"Well, it hurt me to see you with her so you got what you deserved."

Draco walked back to stand in front of Harry. He could see the raw pain overpowering any anger in those green eyes.

"I know," he said quietly.

A lone tear slipped down Harry's cheek. "You said you loved me and yet you did nothing to prove it. I don't trust love anymore and I don't trust you. In some ways you're just as bad as Ethan."

Draco stepped back in shock, the force of Harry's words like a slap in the face.

"How do you propose to get past that?" Harry asked, weakly.

"I don't know," Draco replied honestly. "But I want you to trust me again." He paused. "Maybe this could be a start."

Draco reached into his pocket and pulled out a neatly folded piece of white parchment. Harry hesitantly took it from his outstretched hand and opened it. Draco sat down once again, watching Harry's face as he quickly read the letter - then read it again.

Harry finally looked up in disbelief. "I thought you were going to be a spy for Dumbledore?"

"I was, but this is more important to me."

Harry folded the letter up and held it out.

"No, I want _you_ to send it," Draco said, firmly.

"Me?"

"I want you to trust me again and I want you to know that I'm serious, so if you send it yourself then you'll know that my father actually received it."

Harry looked at the letter in his hands; such a little piece of paper and it contained so much information and held such a lot of power. Enough power to change more than one life forever.

Harry sat down next to Draco and tore the letter in half.

"What are you doing?" Draco exclaimed.

"I don't want you to tell your father the truth," Harry said. "I appreciate the gesture but you'll do more good by being a spy."

"Then how am I supposed to prove to you that I'm sorry?" Draco cried in frustration.

Harry responded gently. "It was enough that you _wanted_ to send it, Draco."

Draco looked up.

"The old Draco Malfoy wouldn't have even considered writing that letter to your father, the old Malfoy wouldn't have cared about trust and honesty. You've changed a lot, and sometimes I forget that. You've really grown since I've gotten to know you. You know, I keep forgetting that it was only July that we first became friends and I first got to see that other side of you."

Draco shook his head ruefully. "It feels like years. I can't believe everything that's happened in six months."

"I know, sometimes it feels like it was all a dream."

"You mean a nightmare."

Harry glanced sideways at the brooding Slytherin. "It wasn't all bad. We did have some good times together, too."

Draco suddenly smiled. "Remember the food fights?"

Harry laughed. "How could I forget? I think I had jam in my hair for a week."

"Maybe you should try a little something the rest of us use called shampoo."

Harry mock-glared at the smirking blond.

Draco laughed and looked out across the lake. He could just make out a group of people standing on the front steps of the school.

"Looks like everyone's leaving," he commented.

Harry looked up. "Yeah, they're probably looking for me. I should go."

He stood up and brushed off his cloak before starting to walk away.

Draco hurriedly got to his feet. "Harry?"

"Yeah?"

"So…where does that leave us?" he asked, hesitantly.

Harry turned around and walked back to stand in front of Draco, gazing searchingly into his face.

"I need to ask you something."

"What?" Draco asked breathlessly.

"If you could go back to the day you broke up with me, knowing what you do now, would you still have done it?"

"No," Draco answered without hesitation, his gaze unwavering in its intensity.

Harry smiled. "Then that's all I need to know."

"So, we're okay, then?" Draco asked, unsure. "Friends?"

"Friends," Harry confirmed, smiling.

Draco smiled back. It was more then he could've hoped for.

"I'd better go, we'll talk some more tomorrow." Harry turned to leave.

"Harry?" Draco called out.

"Yeah?" Harry paused, looking over his shoulder.

"Thank you."

He nodded once in acknowledgment.

"You won't regret it."

Harry smiled softly. "Prove it, Draco," he said quietly.

Harry jogged off across the grounds towards his friends.

"I will," Draco vowed fervently under his breath. "I will."

  
  
** . . .**

  
  
Harry entered the headmaster's office and smiled in greeting at Ms Bloomwood, who was casually perched on the edge of Dumbledore's desk.

"Good morning, Harry." She smiled. "Won't you sit down?"

Harry sat.

"I'm so glad you decided to come and talk with me," she said, moving to sit in the chintz chair next to him.

"Well, to be honest I didn't so much decide as get coerced into it by Draco."

Miranda laughed easily. "How are you two doing by-the-way?"

Harry smiled. "Good - really good. We still have these awkward moments and sometimes I get really mad at him, but it's getting better."

"Does he ever get mad at _you_?"

"No, never. He sulks a lot but he never yells at me."

"He sounds like a good friend to have around."

Harry grinned. "He is…now."

"I'm glad you made up with him." Miranda paused thoughtfully.

"Is it going to get serious now?" Harry joked.

"Have you been sleeping lately, Harry?" she asked bluntly.

"Okay so it is," he muttered under his breath. "Yes, I'm sleeping alright."

"I only ask because you've looked a little tired lately."

"Maybe I've had a few restless nights, but that's to be expected, right?"

"Are you using a concealment charm again?"

Harry looked surprised. "No."

"So you won't mind if I just use my wand to check?" she said, withdrawing it as she spoke.

"Alright, alright," Harry exclaimed quickly. "I've been using it again."

Miranda lifted her wand questioningly. "May I?" she asked.

Harry nodded mutely.

"Finite Incantatem."

Harry's face immediately transformed; his skin paled and dark circles appeared beneath his tired eyes.

"How did you know?" he asked quietly.

"It's very common for abuse victims to stop eating or sleeping. Anything you want to tell me, Harry?"

"Like what?"

"Have you been hurting yourself?"

"Hurting myself? No, why would I do that?"

"It's another symptom of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. Are you telling me the truth, because I can always check…"

"No! I mean, I swear I'm not hurting myself. That just sounds really…weird. Why would someone do that?"

Miranda clasped her hands around her knees and leaned back in her chair, looking particularly young in her baby-blue suit.

"It's not as common among PTSD sufferers, but it's still a concern."

"So you think I have post…post-

"Traumatic stress disorder?"

Harry nodded.

"Hmm…" She stood up and grabbed a quill and some parchment from Dumbledore's desk. "I'm going to ask you some questions and you just answer yes or no."

"Okay."

"Do you feel anxious and worried on a daily basis?"

"Um…I guess."

"Yes or no, Harry."

"Yes."

"Fear?"

"Yes."

"A constant watchful awareness around others?"

"Yes."

"Depression and grief?"

"Um, yeah."

"Feelings of detachment from others?"

"Yes, definitely."

"Do you feel the inability to demonstrate feelings of love and affection?"

Harry nodded slowly.

"Decreased trust?"

"Yes."

"Trouble concentrating?"

"Yes."

"Difficulty falling and/or staying asleep? I guess we already know that one. Umm…vacillation?"

"What's that?"

"Vacillation means that the victim tends to miss and feel the loss of the abuser, alternating with rage toward and rejection of him."

Harry abruptly stood up and crossed the room to stand at the window.

"Harry, it's alright to have those feelings. It's completely normal." Miranda stood and leaned against the wall next to him.

"I just feel so sick…I hate feeling like that!" Harry spat, disgusted and angry. "Do you know why I cried in the trial when they made me list what Ethan had done to me?"

"Because you didn't want him to be punished for it," Miranda answered knowingly.

Harry looked up. "Wow, you _are_ good."

Miranda smiled fleetingly. "I should tell you that I specialize in domestic violence."

Harry smiled bitterly. "I guess I'm a text-bookcase."

Miranda shook her head. "No such thing, everyone is different. You may have all the symptoms but everyone deals with them differently. How _are_ you coping, Harry?"

"I dunno." Harry shrugged. "I'm okay, I guess. I just feel so confused all the time, one minute I hate him and the next I actually miss him. Every time he hurt me he would spend the next few hours holding me, apologizing, comforting me, telling me that he loved me and somehow making me believe that it was my fault in the first place – that I drove him to it."

"So of course you would miss the love and care he provided, it's only natural. That's the trap – the abuser also becomes the only source of comfort, thus the conflicting emotions you're experiencing now."

"Pretty twisted, huh?"

"I'd say pretty typical. Although, your case differs from all the others I've dealt with because Ethan really _didn't_ love you. Most batterers do carry loving feelings for the victim."

"You'd think that that would make me hate him without all these stupid guilty feelings, but it doesn't. Sometimes I hate him more than anything and I'm glad he's going to Azkaban. I only wish I felt like that all the time."

"Did you love him, Harry?"

Harry paused and turned to look out the window. "I never said it to him…"

"But did you?"

"I…don't know. I don't think I did, I don't think I ever really got over Draco enough to fall in love so soon after our relationship ended. I cared about him but I don't think I loved him. I suppose I should be glad that I never said it to him, I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I had."

Miranda nodded in understanding.

"I know what you want to ask," Harry spoke up after a minute.

"What's that?"

"You want to know if I still love Draco."

Miranda smiled. "Let's go for a walk."

Harry frowned. "But-"

"Come on."  
  
Miranda led the way through the empty corridors and out into the crisp and blustery outdoor air. They strolled off together, slowly weaving their way through the garden paths.

"Do you feel happy here, Harry?"

"Um, kind of. I used to love it here, it was my only real home."

"And now?"

"Now I feel like I'm not safe _anywhere_. Not at the Dursley's, not at school, not wandering about Hogsmeade or Diagon Alley…"

"You need to find a place where you _do_ feel safe, a place to go and just be calm, meditate, whatever - just to get away for awhile."

"Like where?"

"Hmm..."

Harry smirked. "Ah, the joys of being the famous Boy-Who-Lived – absolutely no escape."

Miranda stopped and thoughtfully chewed her lip.

"Ms Bloomwood?" Harry questioned, stopping beside her.

"Please call me Miranda," she said, beginning to walk again.

"What were you thinking about?"

"Hmm? Oh, nothing."

Harry shoved his cold hands into his pockets and stared at the ground as they walked on.

"I guess everything here triggers an unpleasant memory of Ethan," Miranda voiced aloud.

"Yeah. He's in prison and he's still affecting my life."

Miranda nodded. "It'll pass."

"How long does it take? Because I don't think I can take this forever," Harry asked desperately.

She sighed. "I know you don't want to hear this, but it usually takes about six months to a year or more."

"A year?" Harry exclaimed in dismay.

"To properly heal, yes. But Harry, it does gradually get better with every week. You'll see."

Harry nodded and kicked at some loose pebbles along the path.

"It's just so exhausting," he sighed.

"What is?"

"Pretending. Acting like I'm fine and that nothing bothers me, but _everything_ bothers me now. It upsets me when people yell or are angry, even if it's not directed at me. I'm scared and nervous all the time, I hate loud noises, I'm scared in the dark, and when I do fall asleep I have terrible nightmares. I keep dreaming that I'm trapped in a room with no doors or windows. Everything reminds me of him. How am I supposed to fight Voldemort like this? What good am I if I can't even fulfill my purpose?"

"Harry, it's not your purpose in life to fight him."

"Yes, it is. And I'm going to lose."

"You need to learn that not everything that happens in life is your fault."

"It's pretty hard to when everything you do in life is documented, dissected, and printed in all the papers for people to judge," he grumbled bitterly.

"It doesn't matter. The only opinion that matters is your own."

Harry looked up and smiled. "Is that Psychology lesson number one?"

Miranda cracked a grin. "Don't be cheeky."

The two walked on across the damp grass, stopping at the edge of the strangely quiet quidditch pitch.

"I hear you're an excellent seeker," Miranda said, looking up at the empty stands.

Harry shrugged and looked away.

Miranda glanced down at him. "Bad memories?"

Harry shrugged again.

"Come on." Miranda turned and led Harry away to take a turn around the lake instead.

"Do you want to tell me about it?" she asked, looking up at the trees of the Dark Forest bending in the rough wind.

Harry breathed out heavily. "I beat him at quidditch once and…let's just say that he didn't take it so well."

"Are you going to play again after the holidays are over?"

Harry kept his eyes on the gravel path as they walked. "I don't know…probably not."

"You never know, Harry, it might make you happy to fly again."

"Maybe…"

"Just don't let anyone force you, though. I imagine your team considers you pretty important and they may not understand your decision."

Harry glanced up. "Lesson number one again?"

Miranda smiled. "Yes, lesson number one."

Harry laughed.

Ms Bloomwood stopped and faced him. "I want you to do something for me, Harry."

"What?" he asked curiously.

"I want you to write a poem."

"A poem?" Harry repeated in dismay.

"Yes, and don't give me that look. I want you to write a poem about how you're feeling, things you've been through, thoughts, musings, whatever you want. You could even write it to someone like Ethan or Draco, or your friends, or even your uncle."

"You know about the Dursley's? I mean about…"

"It's my job to know everything about you."

"Oh."

"So will you do that for me, Harry? You don't have to show it to me if you don't want to. It really helps some people to see their feelings on paper, helps them deal with it matter-of-factly, and it makes them realize just how far they've come."

"Does it have to rhyme?"

Miranda laughed. "No, it doesn't have to rhyme."

"Okay, but I should tell you that I'm complete crap at creative writing."

She patted his shoulder. "Just between you and me – I am, too."

Harry grinned as they continued walking.

There was a thin layer of ice covering the outskirts of the lake and a fat little Plimpy was waddling about on the slippery surface. Harry laughed as the Plimpy slipped and fell, bouncing over the edge into the lake's icy waters.

Miranda smiled at Harry as he laughed, glad that the boy hadn't lost his sense of humour. She was worried about him, though. Worried that he would repress his emotions and fall into a deep irreversible depression once classes resumed and he was thrust back into school life, especially now that all the students knew the most intimate details of his life these past few months.

"Do you remember what day it is today, Harry?"

Harry looked up. "Christmas Eve?"

Miranda smiled. "Yes, but it's also the day the Ministry delivers Ethan's verdict."

Harry stumbled. "I-I forgot…"

"I heard that you didn't want to go to the trial with your friends."

Harry shrugged and stared at the ground.

"Anything you want to talk about?"

"I just didn't think I could go through it all again. Every time I think of him in those chains…all dirty and…unhappy…"

"You feel sorry for him," Miranda finished for him.

Harry nodded miserably, then ran his hands though his hair in anger.

"It's okay-"

Harry broke away abruptly and picked up a large rock from the edge of the lake and hurled it into the rough waves. He picked up four more and threw them as far as he could, yelling angrily with each stone. "I. Hate. You."

Miranda watched silently from the path as he worked out his aggression.

Harry finally bent over, breathing heavily as he rested his hands on his knees, his eyes closed. A single tear leaked out and he angrily swatted it away.

Ms Bloomwood stood patiently as Harry finally heaved a shuddery sigh and walked back to join her, his eyes cast downwards.

The blond witch continued walking along the path and Harry fell into step beside her.

"Sorry 'bout that," Harry apologized.

"Don't apologize. Do you feel better?"

"A little."

"See, it was time well spent."

Harry shook his head. "Are all therapists at St Mungo's as strange as you?"

"I hope not, I like to think of myself as an original."

They'd finally circled the entire lake and were back at the castle entrance.

"I have to go speak to the headmaster about something," Miranda said, looking down at him from the bottom step.

"About me?" Harry asked.

"Yes, as a matter-of-fact."

Harry looked surprised by her honestly.

"Your friends are back."

Harry turned around and saw Ron and Hermione running up the long drive at break-neck speed, flapping newspapers clutched in their hands. They were both grinning from ear to ear.

"Must be good news," Miranda commented. She faced Harry, turning serious. "Remember, it _is_ good news, Harry. This is what he deserves, he's a Lestrange in every sense of the name."

"Right," Harry said with a determined edge to his voice.

She worried her bottom lip between her teeth for a moment before speaking. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to take your wand."

Harry's expression dimmed considerably.

"Sorry, Harry. I'll return it to you the day before classes resume."

Harry nodded and withdrew his precious wand from his pocket. Letting his fingers linger on the smooth surface as Ms Bloomwood took it from his outstretched hand.

"Good bye, Harry. I'll see you later." She turned and started up the stairs towards the large double entrance doors. "Oh, and Harry?"

"Yeah?" Harry replied, sullenly.

"Don't forget about that poem."

Harry rolled his eyes.

Miranda smiled and pushed through the doors.

Harry pressed his hand against his empty pocket, feeling naked without his trusty holly and phoenix feather wand at his side. He decided that he would talk to Dumbledore about it, surely it wasn't safe for Voldemort's prime target to be walking around without even the protection of a wand.

"Harry! Harry!"

Harry turned and forced a smile as Ron and Hermione came to an abrupt stop in front of him, both sporting identical flushed cheeks.

"Was that Ms Bloomwood?" Ron asked interestedly, peering around Harry.

So maybe the exercise wasn't the only reason for Ron's pink cheeks.

"Never-mind that," Hermione said in exasperation. "Harry, he's guilty! He's been sentenced to life in Azkaban."

Harry smiled. "That's great."

"Aren't you happy?"

"Yes, I…I'm just so relieved. I can't believe it's over."

Hermione grinned happily.

"Here - read this, Harry." Ron passed over the wrinkled Daily Prophet.

Harry took the newspaper and retreated to the stairs to sit and read the front page. There was a picture of Ethan in handcuffs being forcefully shoved through a crowd of media photographers and reporters, a large hulking guard on each side of him.

Harry looked away from the picture as Ethan flipped off the cameraman with an angry sneer. He scanned the article quickly, reading that Ethan had been found guilty on all charges, including illegal use of an Unforgivable. It briefly mentioned Harry's involvement at Ethan's previous trial.

Ron and Hermione settled down on either side of him on the cold stairs.

"How come it doesn't mention you?" Harry asked, glancing up at Hermione.

"They're not allowed to use my name since I'm still a minor and I said no to it," she explained. "But I got to fill out a report and was a witness and everything."

"I'm a minor, too," Harry grumbled. "Doesn't stop them from using my name and pictures."

"The law doesn't include celebrities." Ron grinned.

Harry glared.

"Turn to page four," Hermione instructed, tapping the Daily Prophet impatiently.

Harry flipped it open and gasped.

There in black and white was a large moving picture of professor Lupin. He was smiling shyly at the camera and squinting slightly from the sun in his eyes. It looked like a picture of him from his graduation ceremony at Hogwarts, when he was only seventeen.

Harry's hand shot to his mouth and remained there as he read through the article.

_ ** 'Lestrange's Second Victim'**_

**_ Thirty-seven year old wizard and known werewolf, Remus John Lupin, has just today been named as Ethan Lestrange's second, and hopefully last, known victim. An anonymous informant led the Ministry to search Lestrange's property and Lupin's body was found hidden in the basement. A thorough examination proved that Lestrange had indeed used the killing curse to murder the victim. Sources say that several witnesses have said that Lupin had gone to Hogsmeade village that day to visit student and long-time friend Harry Potter. The two had apparently become friends during Mr Lupin's short stint as Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts before he was forced to leave due to his 'condition'. Two of his former students relayed to the staff at the Daily Prophet that professor Lupin was 'an outstanding Defence teacher, the best they'd ever had, and felt was never a threat to their safety.' _**

**_ Lestrange's first victim, Alec Fielding (see page six for details), was found in the backyard of Ethan's adoptive home. The Ministry has just released the gruesome news that Alec Fielding was apparently buried alive, and died later due to suffocation. Lestrange's adoptive mother, Irene Fielding, has been admitted to St Mungo's for an extended stay in their mental illness ward. Mr Lestrange is being kept under very heavy surveillance until his imprisonment in Azkaban. Ethan has since admitted to the fact that his intent was to gain entry into the Death Eaters circle by bringing them the body of young Harry Potter. Luckily, that plan was thwarted by the heroic Boy-Who-Lived himself and is the reason Ethan Lestrange is now in Ministry custody. Although Harry Potter was not available for comment, we do hope he is doing well and wish him a very happy Christmas. For a detailed account of the trials and tribulations of the famous Harry Potter turn to page-_**

Harry threw the paper aside in disgust.

Hermione delicately picked it up and folded it in her lap.

Ron fidgeted nervously. "You okay, Harry?"

"I'm going for a walk." Harry stood abruptly and jumped off of the stairs.

"Harry-"

"Just leave me alone for awhile."

Hermione watched her friend head in the direction of the Dark Forest and shared a concerned look with Ron.

"Should we get, Malfoy?" the red-head asked.

Hermione almost smiled. "You know, you just might make a decent human being after all."

Ron smiled, and then frowned. "Hey!" he exclaimed, insulted.

But Hermione had already headed into the school and he quickly ran to catch up.

Harry traipsed angrily across the frozen grounds. "I killed him, I killed him, I killed him," kept running through his head like a guilty chant.

He stopped at the outskirts of the Dark Forest and peered through the dark mass of trees and thick underbrush. The wind was howling around the huge tree trunks, causing the branches to sway and snap all around him. Owls were hooting eerily from above, their questioning calls mixing hauntingly with the wind's song.

Harry shoved aside his fear and pushed his way in. After only a few steps he was immediately ensconced in the pitch black. He carelessly stumbled onwards, heedless of the scratching brambles and sharp thorns in his path.

He finally missed his footing and slipped and fell down a steep embankment, landing in a cluster of prickly bushes and thick mud at the bottom.

"Shit." Harry pushed his glasses back up on his nose and delicately removed his torn cloak from the bush's thorns. He stood unsteadily in the deep mud and glanced behind him. The embankment was slick with water from last night's rainfall; the surface was almost pure mud.

Harry sighed and brushed the wet hair off of his forehead. He heard a loud snap behind him and quickly spun around, almost falling into the slop under feet. He couldn't see anything and realized in terror just how dark it really was. He couldn't see more than ten yards in front of him.

His heart pounded uncomfortably fast and the sound of his own breathing echoed loudly in his ears.

Harry cautiously began to back up until he was pressed against the embankment, his eyes still trying in vain to pierce the darkness. He couldn't hear anything above the harshness of his own breathing and he immediately tried to calm himself down.

Another loud snap – this time much closer.

Harry cried out and tried to climb up the slippery embankment, his hands scrabbling in a blind panic as he began to slide back to the bottom over and over again.

He screamed and dropped to his knees when he thought he felt hot breath ghost across the nape of his neck. He clenched his eyes closed and buried his face into his knees, whimpering quietly and waiting for the harsh blow to fall or the sneering voice to whisper into his ear.

"Harry?"

The voice was coming from above him and he sat cowering in the mud, waiting for the pain that he knew was coming.

"Harry, are you hurt?"

Harry opened his eyes in confusion, the concerned voice slowly drawing him out of his haze of terror and panic.

"Harry, just sit still, I'm coming down."

Harry blinked. Draco. It was Draco, not Ethan. Ethan's not here. Ethan is in Azkaban. He immediately stood up and looked up at the top of the slope. All he could see was Draco's pale skin and platinum hair glowing blurrily out of the dark.

"No, don't!" Harry yelled. "It's too slippery, you'll never get back up."

Draco breathed a sigh of relief at the sound of Harry's voice. "Do you have your wand?" he shouted.

"No."

"Why not?"

"Look, could you just go and get some rope or something?"

"What do you think I am, a muggle? I'll use my own wand."

Harry rolled his eyes and waited, not even aware of how quickly his fear disappeared once Draco had shown up.

Draco flicked his wand and Harry stepped back in surprise as about fifteen stone blocks pushed their way out of the surface of the embankment, creating a kind of disjointed staircase.

"Climb up!" Draco called down to him.

Harry eyed the wide gaps between each stone dubiously. "Couldn't you conjure a few more? I can barely reach them."

"Sorry, that's the best I can do. You'll just have to kind of pull yourself up."

Harry grasped both sides of the first stone and heaved himself up, using his legs to push off of the slope. He threw one knee up onto the stone then heaved the rest of his body up onto its mud-coated surface.

"This is going to take forever," he moaned, looking up at the rest if the stones above him.

"Maybe you should climb faster," Draco offered with a smirk.

Harry glared upwards, but of course the blond couldn't see it. "Could you give me some light? I can barely see down here."

"Of course." Draco laid out on his stomach and reached his wand down towards Harry. "Lumos."

The tip of his wand ignited with white light and he could now clearly see Harry's face some twenty yards below.

"Thanks." Harry blinked in the sudden light and reached up for the next stone.

Draco rested his chin in his hand and waited patiently while Harry started to climb once again.

Something moving down below caught his attention. He squinted as he tried to make it out.

The meagre light from his wand showed the distinctive glint of two very large eyes.

Draco jumped to his feet. "Harry, there's something down there!"

"Nice try, Malfoy. That's not going to make me climb any faster."

"No, Harry, I'm serious. You have to move _now_!"

Harry's heart jumped at the sound of panic in Draco's voice; a very un-Malfoy-esque emotion. He glanced over his shoulder and down at the ground below.

About thirty yards away and slowly moving towards him was a very large Quintaped. Its wide mouth was open as it targeted its hungry gaze on Harry, its five hairy legs stepping easily through the mud.

"Oh, shit," Harry breathed.

"Harry, _move_!" Draco shouted frantically.

Harry tore his eyes away from the approaching beast and swung into action. He grabbed the next stone and hung upside down, then swung his legs through his arms and up onto the stone. He used his arms to pull his upper body up until he was sitting on the block. He jumped to his feet and went to work grabbing the next step.

"Hurry, hurry, hurry…" Draco urged under his breath. He knew he couldn't put out his light to attack the Quintaped or else Harry wouldn't be able to see, and he'd never actually used an attacking spell on anything before, he didn't know if he could even do it.

Harry kept on climbing, his arms beginning to ache painfully and his hands becoming raw from the rough stone. He glanced down and saw the Quintaped approaching the bottom of the slope.

"Don't stop!" Draco yelled.

Harry kept climbing, getting closer and closer to the top as the Quintaped kept getting closer and closer to him.

His arms shook weakly as he pulled himself up onto the third to last step. He paused, breathing heavily.

"Come on, you're almost there!" Draco urged, he could see how exhausted Harry was becoming with each step.

Harry took a deep breath and pulled himself up to the next block. He sat there, feeling dizzy. He glanced down and saw the furry beast rapidly gaining on him. Cold anguish filled his chest, he knew he would never get to the top fast enough.

"Harry! Come on! Don't give up!" Draco leapt down onto the top stone and leaned out over the edge, reaching his one free hand down towards Harry. "Grab on!"

Harry looked up and quickly got to his feet. He jumped and reached upwards, but his damp hand slipped through Draco's fingers.

"Try again!" Draco demanded.

The Quintaped was right below them now, its mouth opening wide.

Harry jumped again and this time Draco grabbed his forearm. He gripped him tightly and hauled him up in one motion.

"Nox." Draco extinguished his wand and held out clasped hands for Harry to step onto, then tossed the smaller boy up towards the top.

Harry scrambled up on his stomach then turned around to reach down for Draco. Draco grabbed on and was lifted just as the Quintaped's snapping teeth closed around the space the Slytherin's ankles had been.

Draco leapt to his feet. "Come on."

Harry shook his head. "I can't run," he panted. "You're going to have to stun it."

"But-" Draco whipped around as the Quintaped climbed over the ridge behind him, its menacing eyes locked on Harry.

"Stupefy!"

The spell hit the large beast right between the eyes. It froze in surprise before falling backwards over the edge and out of sight.

Draco expelled his breath in relief.

"Lumos." He knelt down and carefully slipped an arm around Harry and stood the two of them up.

Harry swayed on his feet and quickly put an arm around Draco's shoulders to steady himself.

Draco tried to suppress the feelings that that simple gesture ignited in him, tried to ignore the fact that Harry was right next to him, leaning on him…

"We'd better get you back," he said, stiffly.

Harry nodded and allowed himself to be helped slowly back out of the Dark Forest.

The two emerged into the Hogwarts grounds and it was a little shocking to realize that it was only one o'clock in the afternoon and still light out compared to the never-ending night of the Forest.

"I don't want to go in yet," Harry said, looking at the castle. "Can we just sit for a minute?"

"Sure." Draco led him over to the outside of Hagrid's empty hut, the half-giant being away at Madam Maxime's for Christmas, and sat Harry down on the front stoop.

Harry rubbed his aching shoulders as he stared out over the empty grounds.

"You need a massage." Draco observed sympathetically.

"Are you offering?" Harry smirked.

Draco's smile faltered slightly and there was an awkward pause as they quickly looked away from each other.

Draco cleared his throat uncomfortably. "So…what were you doing in the Dark Forest anyway, and why didn't you have your wand?"

"Ms Bloomwood confiscated it."

"Why?"

"Because she thinks I'm a danger to myself."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Be serious."

"I am."

Draco turned towards him questioningly.

Harry sighed wearily. "I was using a concealment charm again. I haven't been sleeping and I just didn't want anyone to worry."

Draco shook his head. "I always worry about you, Harry."

Harry smiled sadly.

Draco clenched his hands together to keep from reaching out and stroking a finger down Harry's cheek.

"Did you see the Daily Prophet today?" Harry asked.

"What? Oh, um…yes, I did. Is that why you ran away?"

Harry nodded. "And if you tell me that it's not my fault then I'm going to have to hex you."

"So tell me how being born Harry Potter _is_ your fault, because that's the only reason these things happen to you. You should blame your parents if you want to blame someone."

"But it's not their fault. They were fighting for what they believed in and they had no idea what was going to happen in the future," Harry defended instantly.

"And tell me again how your situation is any different?"

"It…it just is."

"Stop being so stupid, Harry. No one blames you for any of this and you shouldn't either. Didn't professor Lupin tell you not to blame yourself for Sirius' death? I'm sure he'd now say the same thing to you about himself. This is a war, Harry – people die and the only people you can blame are the ones holding the wands."

Harry bit his lip and bowed his head, tears welling up in his emerald eyes.

"Harry?" Draco touched his shoulder gently. "I'm sorry, I have no right to preach to you. I didn't mean to upset you."

Harry let out a dry sob and dropped his head into his hands. "No, you're right. It's true... it's all true. I just couldn't deal with the pain of losing them so I used guilt to make me feel something else. It was just another way for me to conceal my pain, like I do with everything. No one else has to carry around all the shit that I live with - it's not fair. I hate it…I fucking hate it!" Harry choked.

Draco told his inner voice to shut it as he put his arms around the distraught brunette and prayed that Harry wouldn't freak out.

Harry immediately clutched at Draco's cloak and buried his face in his chest.

Draco sighed in relief and soothingly stroked Harry's back and dark unruly hair. He began to gently rock him as they sat there together on Hagrid's rickety stairs. The only sound being that of Harry's broken sobs as he let out the poison that had been eating away at him for so long.

Draco laid his cheek on the top of Harry's head and held on, willing to sit there all night in the freezing cold if that's how long it took.

Harry sniffed as his tears slowly began to subside. There was a deep ache in his chest and he now felt hollow and empty, but it was a beginning – he now knew that he would have to face his pain head-on, no trying to avoid it or putting it off indefinitely.

He snuggled closer to Draco's welcoming warmth and comfort, not quite ready to let go yet.

Draco smiled and opened his eyes, wishing that the moment would never end.

Something white floated past his vision and landed on his nose. Draco blinked in surprise then looked up. His smile grew. "Harry, it's snowing."

"What?" Harry sniffed and pulled his head back to look up at the sky.

Tiny white flakes were beginning to fall from all over, dancing and twirling in the wind as they cascaded down all around them.

Harry slowly smiled and wiped the last of his tears away.

The two boys sat out in the falling snow for over an hour, not saying a word, just watching the world turn white all around them. Neither one of them wanted to disturb the magic.

And that's how they were found some time later by Ms Bloomwood. She smiled at the two of them as she approached.

"Enjoying the snow gentlemen?"

They both smiled back at the kind witch and reluctantly pulled apart.

"Harry, the headmaster wants to see you."

"Am I in trouble?"

"No." Miranda smiled. "He just has something important to discuss with you."

Harry relaxed. "Okay, I'm coming." He stood up and stretched his aching legs, stiff from sitting in the cold for so long.

Draco did the same, although with a little more reluctance. He wished that he had a time turner so he could just keep going back and re-living their afternoon together over and over again – minus the near-death monster experience.

"Coming, Draco?" Harry laughed, already having walked a few yards away with Ms Bloomwood while Draco had been day-dreaming.

Draco smiled and quickly caught up, falling into step beside Harry as the three made their way through the falling snow towards the warmth of the school.

  
  
**. . .**

  
  
"Harry? Earth to Harry!"

Harry blinked and looked up. "What?"

Draco smiled in amusement as he sat down next to the distracted Gryffindor under the willow tree.

"Where have you been hiding yourself? I haven't seen you all day."

Harry shrugged and closed the leather-bound notebook resting in his lap. "Just out enjoying the snow."

Draco smiled, noticing the flakes dotting Harry's dark locks. "What's that?" he asked, indicating the notebook.

"Homework."

"Homework?" Draco repeated with the raise of a brow.

"It's for Ms Bloomwood. She gave me this journal for Christmas and asked me to write a poem for her."

"Why does she want you to write a poem?"

"It's kind of a personal thing. She said it'd be good for me, but frankly I found the whole experience depressing."

"I didn't know you could write poetry."

"That's because I can't, I only did it because she asked me too. She even gave me the title."

"Oh, and what's that?"

"I'm okay."

"That's the title? It sounds kind of presumptuous on her part."

"She gave me that title because I always answer people's inquiries about how I'm doing with 'I'm okay'. So the poem is about pretending to be okay when you're really not."

Draco glanced at Harry with a frown, surprised by his honesty, but refraining from commenting on it. He didn't want Harry to think that he pitied him in any way, he knew the proud Gryffindor hated that more than anything. Draco tilted his head back and looked up at the darkening sky, a few scattered snowflakes still lazily drifting downwards through the air.

"I like what you've done with your hair."

Draco smiled. "I didn't do it on purpose, I'm out of gel so I couldn't style it and all the shops are closed on Christmas day."

"It looks better," Harry said approvingly. "Softer, not so severe."

Draco was glad his cheeks were already pink from the cold or else he would've been embarrassed at how obviously pleased he was by Harry's compliment.

"I'm starving," Harry said, placing his journal aside and drawing his knees up to his chin. "It must almost be time for the feast."

"Oh, Dumbledore said he wanted to see you before dinner," Draco said, suddenly remembering why he'd gone out in search of Harry in the first place.

"Oh, right. I almost forgot."

"Is everything alright, Harry? You seem a little preoccupied."

Harry looked over at Draco thoughtfully, considering.

"It's nothing." He finally smiled dismissively.

"Are you sure? You know you can tell me anything."

"I'm sure. I'd better get going."

Harry stood and brushed the snow from his heavy winter cloak. "See you at dinner."

"See ya."

Draco eyed the brown leather journal sitting in the snow as Harry began to walk back to the school.

"You can read it if you want," Harry said loudly without turning around.

Draco jumped guiltily and smiled at Harry's retreating back. He picked the journal up and undid the leather ties, carefully opening it to the first page.

  
**_I'm Okay _**

**_Once upon a time there was a boy  
In his early years he had to learn how to grow up living in a war that he called home  
Never knew just where to turn for shelter from the storm  
It hurt to see the pain across his face,  
Every time his uncle's fist would put him in his place  
After all the yelling I would cry up in my room  
Hoping it would be over soon  
  
Bruises fade but the pain remains the same  
And I still remember how you kept me so afraid  
Strength is my mother for the sacrifice she made  
And every morning that I wake I look back at yesterday   
And I'm okay  
  
Have been wondering why I've carried all this guilt  
When it's you that helped me put up all these walls I've built  
Shadows stir at night though a crack in the door  
Echoes of a broken child screaming, 'please no more'  
  
Ethan don't you understand the damage you have done  
For you it's just a memory,   
But for me it still lives on  
It's not so easy to forget all the marks you left along my neck  
When I was thrown against cold stairs  
And every day afraid to wake up in fear of what I might see next  
Every morning that I wake I look back at yesterday  
And I'm okay  
I'm okay…_**

  
  
Draco closed the journal and stared out across the frozen lake, his cheeks glistening with silver tear tracks.

  
  
** . . .**

"Merry Christmas!" Harry grinned, clinking his glass with Hermione.

All around the table people were doing the same with their neighbours, a cheerfully festive mood filling the Great Hall.

Dumbledore and the rest of the teaching staff had really outdone themselves this year – the decorations were amazing. The Hall sparkled with glittering ornaments and giant Christmas trees strung with garlands of ever colour circled the room. The enchanted sky above them dropped snowflakes that floated down a few yards then promptly vanished before they could touch the tables or heads of the people down below.

Although it was just a small gathering of a few select people, the table before them was spread with a feast fit for an entire army. There was a giant golden turkey, pheasant, roasted potatoes, mashes potatoes, carrots and peas, warm rolls, stuffing, pumpkin soup, silver tureens of gravy, and sparkling wine glasses full of wine and champagne, or ginger-ale in the case of the students.

"Merry Christmas, Harry." Ron clinked against his glass with a smile.

"Merry Christmas, Ron." Harry laughed as some of his ginger-ale sloshed over the side. He licked his sticky fingers with a grin and looked across the table to see Draco watching him.

Draco smiled and raised his glass in a silent toast.

Harry happily returned the gesture and took a drink.

Two hours later, Harry pushed his plate away with a groan. After his third helping of pumpkin pie and whipped cream he was finally stuffed to the brim. He wrapped his hands around his mug of hot chocolate and looked around the table with contentment.

"Excuse me, ladies and gentlemen." Dumbledore stood up and addressed the table. "But before you all bid goodnight and return to your rooms, I have an announcement to make."

The small group at the table looked up with curiosity, except for Harry, who fidgeted uncomfortably in his seat.

"I hold every single person here in the highest regard and trust you all to not let the following information leave this room."

The headmaster looked directly into each face as he spoke; professor McGonagall, Hermione, Snape, Ron, Draco, and Ms Bloomwood.

"As you all know, Harry has had a very tough year thus far, but what you don't know is that he is an Intimus Magus."

Draco glanced at Harry who was staring very determinedly into his hot chocolate.

"That is how he escaped from Ethan that night. Like his mother before him, Harry will be going to Ireland to study and train with Julian Price to further his powers and the understanding of his gift. Harry was set to finish his last year of school here at Hogwarts before leaving, but after much consideration and a lot of discussion it has been decided that he will leave sooner – tomorrow, in fact."

This revelation was met by a stunned silence.

"This was Harry's own decision and I respect his judgment. He will be leaving for Ireland early tomorrow morning."

"For how long?" Hermione asked, un-sticking her throat.

"A year and a half."

Draco suddenly pushed back from the table and abruptly left the Hall.

"Be right back." Harry stood up and went after the blond-haired Slytherin.

He entered the Entrance Hall and caught sight of the doors falling shut. He pushed through to the outside and stood looking around, then slowly walked down the steps and noticed the fresh footprints in the snow leading into the garden.

He followed the path and stopped when he came to the large clearing of rose bushes. Draco was there, sitting on a stone bench under the moonlight.

The snow fell all around the two boys as Harry approached and quietly sat next to him.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I only just decided today," Harry answered truthfully.

"You didn't even tell me you were considering it."

"No one knew. I wanted to make my own decision without anyone trying to sway me either way."

"I wouldn't have tried to change your mind."

Harry fixed him with a level stare. "Yes, you would've."

Draco's grey eyes met Harry's intense gaze. "You didn't even give me the chance."

"I still stand by my decision and I'm not going to apologize," Harry said, strongly.

"Of course not," Draco muttered.

Harry sighed. "Please let's not spend my last night here arguing."

"Then don't go."

"I thought you said you wouldn't try to change my mind."

Draco remained silent.

"Did you read my journal?"

"Yeah…"

"Then you must understand why I have to do this."

"But you belong here, Harry - at Hogwarts. It's your home."

Harry shook his head. "It's not my home anymore. A home is somewhere you feel safe and happy, Hogwarts is neither of these things for me now."

"But all your friends are here…"

"Ron and Hermione will understand."

"I wasn't only speaking of them."

Harry looked up sadly. "That's another reason why I have to go."

"What is?"

"You, Draco. You do realize that once classes resumed you would've had to pretend to hate me again. You're my friend Draco and it wouldn't be fair to put either of us through that. I don't think I could've taken it again."

Draco sighed in frustration. "Fucking Voldemort," he exclaimed vehemently. "He's ruining my life."

"Join the club," Harry said bitterly.

Draco looked at him as if searching for the truth. "Are you really going to be gone for over a year?"

"Yep."

"Are you scared?"

"Yeah, but I'm ready. I need a change of scenery, of people, somewhere I can go and not be reminded about the past every time I walk around another corner. It's my chance for a fresh start."

"But you _are_ coming back, right?"

Harry smiled bitterly. "Of course, I have a job to finish."

"Don't you have any other reasons to come back besides Voldemort?" Draco asked quietly.

Harry looked at him. Draco avoided his gaze as he stared down at the snow-covered ground.

"Do I?"

Draco glanced up. "I don't know, do you?"

"I…" Harry trailed off, staring into those hopeful grey/blue eyes.

Draco reached over and took Harry's hands into his own. "I know you don't want to hear it, and I'm sorry, but I have to tell you – I'm still in love with you, Harry. I love you even more if that's possible and I know you said we're just friends but I can't content myself with only that. I don't think I could stand it if you went away for so long."

Harry swallowed thickly. "Draco…I can't stay."

"Doesn't that mean anything to you, Harry?"

Harry tried to pull his hands away. "Please don't do this, Draco."

"Don't go," Draco pleaded, his eyes glassy with emotion.

"Don't make this harder than it has to be."

"Please, Harry…"

"No!" Harry wrenched his hands free and stood up. "I don't love you."

Draco stared at him, hurt written all over his face as tears slipped down his cheeks.

Harry closed his eyes, stealing himself. "I didn't mean to hurt you, but we're just friends, okay? I think this separation from each other will be good for you, too. Maybe you'll find someone new."

Draco shook his head and looked away. "Are you saying there's absolutely no hope for us?"

Harry chose his words carefully. "I'm not saying never, who knows what the future will bring, but-"

Draco closed his eyes.

"- it's not what I want right now. Please respect that."

The Slytherin nodded in defeat.

"Well…I'd better get back. I have to say goodbye to everyone else."

"I'll be waiting for you, Harry. Until you come back again."

In a flash, Harry walked forwards and embraced him.

Draco hugged him back for all he was worth, memorising Harry's scent, his touch, the sound of his breathing, the feel of his heartbeat pressed against his own.

Harry pulled back and tried to smile. "I'm going to miss you. I'm just not ready for _any_ relationship right now, let alone…"

"Let alone me," Draco finished for him.

"Goodbye." Harry touched his cheek briefly, then turned to leave. As soon as his back was turned, he let the tears he'd been holding back fall. "No, Draco," he thought sadly. "Let alone someone I'm still so desperately in love with."

He hurried from the garden, leaving Draco to stare after him as he walked away.

"You _will_ be back, Harry," Draco said under his breath. "And I'll be right here waiting for you."

* * *

= All lyrics included in this story are the property of Christina Aguilera and the titles are as follows: 'Walk Away', 'I'm Okay', 'The Voice Within', 'Soar', and 'Fighter.'

**Coming soon...  
**  
The Sequel: **'The Reason Is You'** - It's a year and a half later and Draco is anxiously awaiting Harry's return. He hopes that things can finally return to normal, but unfortunately Harry returns with a few surprises of his own.


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